Last Year
by thatTWWgirl
Summary: "The great breakup of November 2002." Andy says somberly. "God, that was a wreck."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: _What? Another story? Isn't she in a little over her head?_ I know, faithful readers, I know. But I figured you'd prefer I post what I have, rather than keep it under wraps until the ribbons are tied on all my other stories.**

 **I hope you like it! I'm rather fond of it myself.**

 **Rating: T**

 **Reviews: Yes yes yes yes please please please please always :)**

 **Disclaimer: I couldn't handle the responsibility of owning the West Wing. I'd probably foist it on someone else (I feel you, Sorkin).**

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"I'm telling you, the coffee is great. I mean, not great. But better than the Congresswoman's."

I cringe. "It's like weak tea."

My coworker of three weeks, Donna Moss, grins at me. "You can't pry that French press from her. Believe me, I've tried. You should've told me you were suffering earlier."

"I was trying to be polite!" I say defensively. "I was the new guy!"

Donna laughs. "There, there. I'll fix you up."

We lapse into amicable silence as the tired 8am line shuffles forward, and we place our orders. I head over to the other side of the shop, and Donna, who I'm beginning to consider something of a friend, follows. "So, Donna."

She looks up at me. "So, Alan."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Northern Wisconsin. So close to Canada, actually, that it's constantly subject to border disputes. Once, when I was working at the White House, they wouldn't let me in to this event because they'd actually revoked my citizenship." She smiles.

"You might just be one of the most interesting people I've ever met." I say truthfully. The girl was quite a character. Sweet, idealistic, but with a bite. Some sass, some fight. Abundant quirks. It seemed she cared so much she occasionally tripped over herself. I liked her enormously - she'd made me feel at home the moment we were introduced.

"Why, thank you."

"How long did you work at the White House?"

"Three and a half years."

"Wow. What was your position?"

"I was an assistant." She says shortly.

Obviously a sore subject, I note. "Hey, that's cool. Gotta start somewhere."

"Right." She agrees, not quite looking at me.

I had noticed something about her. It's a cliché, I know, but something a little sad. Like she was grieving. I wasn't sure who she was grieving, but there it was. "Do you think you could help me with the opener for the Congresswoman's speech today? I can't quite get anything that packs a punch."

"Sure thing." Her usual smile, one of the fullest I'd encountered, is back. I'm relieved.

"Thanks."

"I do have a way with making an impression, wouldn't you say?" She jokes, likely referring to our first meeting - she'd spit her coffee all over me when I cracked a joke.

"Indeed." I chuckle.

"Oh, I agree. A lasting impression if nothing else."

I startle at the voice behind me, and turn to find a man standing at my shoulder, grinning at my coworker. I swivel my head to look at her, to confirm that she knows him, and I see the strangest expression on her face.

"Josh." She says breathlessly in place of a greeting.

I look back to this man, who has now been identified as Josh, and realize that he looks familiar. I'd probably seen him on the hill or somewhere similar. "Donnatella. What a coincidence."

She clears her throat, and looks around, as if suddenly remembering her surroundings. "Right. Right, well. I wanted coffee."

"Right. Me too." He says, giving her an amused look.

She blinks a few times, obviously at a loss. She looks to me, and I look back curiously. After a moment, her expression clears. She throws on a smile and gestures to me. "This is my friend Alan, Josh."

I see that I've been rapidly bumped from coworker to friend, but I don't stop to marvel at the title change. "Hi. Alan Santiago. Nice to meet you."

His smile is still in place, but it is somehow less friendly as he stares me down and grasps my hand. "Yeah, good to meet you, Alan. I'm Josh Lyman."

I know that name. "Oh, hey. You work at the White House, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. How'd you know?"

"I work on the Hill."

"As what?"

"He's a speechwriter." Donna interrupts before I can say anything.

"Yeah, I am." I'd add that I'm a speechwriter for Congresswoman Wyatt, but somehow, I'm getting the feeling that Donna doesn't want this guy to know we work together. "Aspiring novelist, though."

Josh narrows his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Romance, probably."

He looks deeply amused by this. "Fascinating. And why did you decide to get into speechwriting as a day job?"

"Well, I see a lot of common ground between speechwriting and romance novels. The flowery language, the hope, the emotion. You're basically trying to make the audience fall in love with you." I say seriously.

He stares at me for a moment. Eventually, his gaze reverts to Donna. "Has this guy met Sam?"

She smiles, though I have no idea who Sam is. "No, but I'm thinking of introducing them."

"Don't. It'd be a nightmare."

She laughs, a laugh that is kind of skittish but mostly genuine. There's something in the way she's looking at him. Like she's peering through a window. "So, how are you?"

His gaze is the same. Warm, but guarded. "Good. And you?"

"Good." She says, too quickly.

"How's Toby?"

This elicits another smile. "He's good. How's Toby?"

"Crotchety. I swear, fatherhood isn't making him any warmer."

"The same goes for the congresswoman. Except, I mean, you know. Motherhood." She amends lamely.

"Right."

And then they're just looking at each other. And I know I'm a romance novelist and all, but you've gotta believe me, you could cut the sexual tension in there with a spoon. I cough to alert her that our drinks have come up.

She jumps a little. "Oh. Hey, would you look at that." She grabs hers and hands me mine. She looks away from him. "I guess we should get going."

"Yeah. I guess you should."

She puts on the smile again. Walls up. "It was good to see you."

"Yeah, you too. Always." He leans in to kiss her cheek, and for a split second, her eyes close. They're a little hazy when they open. "Good to meet you, Alan."

"You too." We head for the exit. She doesn't look back, but I do. And I catch his eyes on her. When the door finally closes behind us, I whirl on her. "Okay, you've _got_ to tell me what that was about."

She takes a sip of her coffee, staring with detachment at the cement. "What?"

"You. Him. What's the deal?"

"Who, me and Josh?"

"Don't play dumb."

She glares at the ground. "It's nothing."

"Really? Because that guy kinda looked like he wanted to hit me."

"Yeah. He has that effect on men that I'm friends with. I wouldn't let it bother you."

I press on. "And you obviously didn't want him to know we worked together, for some reason."

In a small, hard voice, she says, "I want him to know I have friends."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Of course you have friends. You're like the friendliest person I know."

"I know I have friends." She snaps. "I'm just making sure he does."

"Donna. C'mon." I whine. "I'm dying to know."

She takes a deep breath in through her nose. "He's my ex boyfriend, okay, Alan?"

"I knew it!" I cry triumphantly, before catching myself. "I mean, I'm sorry we ran into him."

She rolls her eyes. "It's not a big deal."

"It's not?"

"No. It happens all the time. I have to work with him sometimes, after all."

"Right. What's with the Toby thing?"

"Oh. That." A smile creeps across her face. "It's just a little thing that we do. We had this coworker named Toby - great guy, super mopey though. And then when we got a dog, I named it after him. Because they were both mopey. So now when we see each other, he asks about the dog, and I ask about the person. Because they still work together."

"Toby, like... The congresswoman's ex-husband?"

"The very same."

I process this. "You guys co-owned a dog?"

She looks at me like I've offended her. "Toby is my dog."

"You just said, when 'we' got a dog."

"Okay. Fine." She says frustratedly. "Maybe when we got the dog, I was under the impression that the dog would be co-owned. But now I'm a single dog owner. And I'm fine with it."

I smile slightly. "Okay, Ms. Independent. I'm just saying, that sounds like a serious relationship."

Her expression hardens. "It wasn't. Not really."

"How long did it last?"

"About nine months."

"And how many days and hours?"

"Alan. Drop it."

"I know that you know."

She turns her eyes skyward as if asking the heavens what she's done to deserve my inquiry. In my defense, I'm like this at work, and she should've know what she was getting into with this friendship. "It doesn't matter. I'm over it. He's over it."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Trust me. He's over me. He's moved on." She says this like it's something she tells herself a lot.

"Really? Because the way he was looking at you? That's not the way you look at someone you've gotten over."

She looks at me sharply. "You think?"

"Definitely."

She bites her lip. "It doesn't matter, Alan. It's over."

"If you say so."

"Can we please just drop it?"

I've never seen her look so pained and vulnerable. I swallow my curiosity for a later time. "Okay."

"Good."

It was strange. I'd known she was grieving, but I'd never thought it might be for someone who was still alive.

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 _May, 2002_

Josh lets himself into his apartment, and pauses in the empty living room. "Donna?"

"In here!" He hears from the bathroom. "Come in!" Her voice is muffled.

Curious, he pushes open the cracked door, and takes in the sight before him. In the tub, his girlfriend sits cross-legged in her underwear, holding onto the collar of a wet basset hound with one hand and clutching a toothbrush in the other.

"Hey." She greets casually.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She looks over at him, as if this should be obvious. "I'm giving Toby a bath."

"Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd hear come out of your mouth." A grin spreads slowly across his face.

"You said he smelled, so. Here we are."

"You're in the tub with him."

"He wouldn't sit still."

At this, he can't contain his laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"You look ridiculous."

"Hey!" Her indignant expression fades into a smile as he continues to laugh, clutching his side. "Jerk."

"I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" She calls after him, but he doesn't respond.

A minute later, he reenters the bathroom, holding a camera. Without warning, he starts taking her picture.

"Hey!"

"Oh my god. This is priceless."

"Josh, put down the camera. I'm warning you."

"Are you kidding me? Everyone I know is going to see these. Going to put them up on a big slide projector, at our wedding reception."

Her hands stops midway through turning the tap on. "What?"

"I said they'll be up on a screen at-"

"Our wedding reception."

"Yeah."

"There'll be a wedding reception?"

Realizing what he'd said, he blanches. "Oh, um..."

"There'll be a wedding?"

He blinks, trapped. "Well... Yeah. I like to think so."

She stares at him a moment longer. "I do too." She beams.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well. Good."

"But you're definitely not showing those photos."

"Like hell I'm not." He raises the camera again, and in response she turns the faucet back on and grabs the shower head. He gapes at her. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

He clicks the camera one more time, and is immediately drenched in water. "Hey!"

"Drop it."

"Never."

She sprays him again.

"Agh!"

"I warned you."

"What are you doing with that toothbrush, anyway?" He attempts to distract her.

"Did you know that you're actually supposed to brush a dog's teeth?"

"Whoever told you that was conning you, Donna."

"No, really, it's true."

"Is that... Is that _my_ toothbrush?" He asks incredulously.

"You're the one that complained about his smell."

"That's it." He sets the camera on the sink's edge and approaches the bathtub. "I'm taking that damn shower head."

"Agh!" They're both sprayed fantastically as he attempts to wrestle it from her. Toby barks and jumps out of the tub just as Josh steps in it, taking off and tearing through the apartment.

"Great, now he's going to get everything all wet."

"It's your fault."

"Is not." He finally succeeds in taking the showerhead from her, sinking down into the tub, soaking wet in his work clothes. They sit facing each other, legs crossed.

She flicks wet hair out of her face to grin at him. "So, a wedding, huh?"

"A wedding." He affirms, not sure what he's gotten himself into this time.

"Can Toby be the ring bearer?"

"Toby can't come."

"You're not inviting Toby Ziegler? He'll be crushed."

"Very funny."

She leans forward to kiss him, sure for all the world that she'd spend the rest of her life with this man.

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 **Here's the plan: Almost every chapter will include a scene or two from the present (from Alan, my OC's, POV), and one flashback to their relationship. So, a nice little mix of angst and fluff for you all :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I thought I'd give you two chapters to start, to get you invested :)**

 **(Thankfully, it would appear you're already invested enough to click on Chapter Two)**

 **Love you all! Hope you're enjoying this so far!**

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"How long have you two been broken up?"

Donna ignores me.

"Donna?"

"Yes, Alan?"

"I asked you a question."

"I didn't hear you."

"How long have you and Josh been broken up?"

Silence.

"Donna?"

"Yes, Alan?"

"This is very immature."

"What's immature?" The congresswoman swings into the office from her committee meeting.

"Nothing." Donna says quickly. "How was the meeting?"

"Not great. They're trying to swallow the bill so it never makes it onto the floor."

"It's not like we didn't expect it." Donna sighs.

"So what were you guys talking about?" Andy persists.

"I was asking her about-"

"Wouldn't you rather strategize pushing the bill?" Donna interrupts.

Andy considers this. "I'd really rather talk about anything that isn't the bill."

"I was asking about her ex-boyfriend, because we ran into him this morning." I say in one breath before Donna can stop me. I ignore the piercing glare she sends my way. "And sparks flew."

"I'd ask which one, but something tells me it's Josh."

"Yeah, him."

"Oh, hon." Andy says sympathetically. "Don't you know we're not allowed to talk about that?"

"Why not?"

"Because. This is a safe space. I don't mention the J word, and Donna doesn't mention the T word unless absolutely necessary. It's a pact we've had for a long time. It's between women, you wouldn't understand."

Donna looks up at me smugly, as if we were siblings and Mom had just ruled in her favor.

"I don't understand."

"We stick together. We hate them together. It works for us."

"And you can't just saunter in and upend the safe space." Donna adds.

"How long has this pact been in place?"

"Since the great breakup of November 2002." Andy says somberly. "God, that was a wreck."

"Damn it." Donna mutters.

"What?"

"You've just answered his question."

"Damn it."

"So you've been broken up for almost a year?"

"The pact wasn't really official until this summer, though, when somebody went and refused the house their ex-husband bought them." Donna says, hoping to seek revenge and deflect attention from herself in the same breath.

"Donna! Safe space!"

"Sorry."

"How did you two meet?"

"Who, Donna and I?" The congresswoman asks.

"Donna, c'mon. You and Josh. He works at the White House, you used to work at the White House. You said that Toby was both of your coworkers."

"You just mentioned both of the words banned from this office." Donna says tightly, not looking at me.

"Did you work together?"

Andy looks between the two of us in surprise. "Oh, you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"It's not my place to say."

"Drop it, Alan."

"Donna, you should tell him."

"Why?"

"Because you should."

"That's not a reason." Donna grumbles, though obviously the Congresswoman's words have affected her. Looking down at her keyboard, she says softly, "I told you I was an assistant, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well." She shrugs. "I was his assistant."

I gape at her. "You _what_?"

"It's really not a big deal."

"You dated your boss?"

"I did _not_ date my boss." She says tersely. "As soon as we knew something was happening between us, I transferred to Communications. And a few months later, the Congresswoman hired me."

"Ah. Those were simpler times."

"I can't believe this. You guys were like, forbidden love."

"We weren't."

"You came together, against the odds."

"We didn't."

"Were you in love, all those years?"

"No. It doesn't matter."

"When did you finally realize it?"

"Alan, that's enough. I've answered enough questions, okay? Now I'd like to get back to work."

"Agreed." Andy says firmly. "Safe space reestablished."

"Thank you."

They'd broken up almost a year ago, and she still couldn't bear to talk about him. I had to get to the bottom of this.

"One last thing. Why'd you guys break up?"

"We just... Grew apart."

That settles it. I'm obviously not going to get anything out of her. I'll have to consult outside sources.

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 _February, 2002_

"Hey." Donna enters the darkened office, holding drinks in one hand and two plates in the other. "I brought you something."

He looks up at her from his computer screen. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Carry so many things at once."

"You're forgetting that I was a waitress for a year."

"Right."

She sets her spoils on his desk. "I brought you a drink, and a sugar cookie. Aren't they cute? Zoey made them."

"It's shaped like a heart."

"Everything at the party is shaped like a heart."

"Has Charlie been trying to win her over all night?"

"You'd know if you came out to the party."

"I'll be out soon. I want to finish this email."

"It's a great party, Josh."

"I don't want to talk to Bruno. He's been trying to sway me on this one line all day."

"Bruno's tipsy, he'll be nice to you."

"What is this? It's a weird color." He holds his drink up to the light curiously.

"I don't know. But it was pink and fruity, so I figured you'd like it."

"Ha, ha." He takes a sip. It was pretty good. "That's quite the outfit you've got there."

"Thank you for noticing." She'd worn a red sweater, pink jewelry and lipstick, and a heart-shaped necklace. She'd always been one to embrace the holidays - any holiday. She'd been refuting his argument (that Valentine's day was manufactured by greeting card companies) with anecdotes and historical facts about St. Valentine all week.

"Who gave you that necklace?"

"What does it matter?"

"It doesn't. I'm just asking."

"You really should come out to the party. The decorations are something to behold."

"I've got decorations enough in here." He gestures out the door, which is framed with pink and red tinsel, to the bullpen illuminated by glowing red lights.

"Josh."

"What's with the kitsch this year, anyway? Normally we don't go so overboard with this one. Christmas, sure, but Valentine's Day? This is just ridiculous."

"The President and First Lady celebrated their thirtieth anniversary last week."

"Oh. Right."

"Josh. C'mon."

"I've just gotta finish this email."

"Why aren't you with Amy?"

"Why would I be?"

"It's Valentine's Day."

"We had plans. I cancelled them this morning."

"Why?"

"I told her I was busy."

"You're not that busy."

"I know. I was hoping she'd call me on it and break up with me."

"She didn't?"

"Not yet."

Donna sighs. "Another one bites the dust."

"Don't start with me."

"No, I'm proud of you. Lasted longer than most of them."

"I don't need this right now."

"Come out to the party. I'll get you drunk."

"I don't want to get drunk."

"And I'll dance with you."

"Huh."

"In a way that CJ deems inappropriate."

He grins. "Now I'm tempted." He stands, and walks around his desk.

She looks at him curiously. "Why do you think it never works out with you?"

"Donna."

"I'm just asking."

"Why does it never work out between you and your gomers?"

"I don't know."

"There you go."

"Let's go to the party." She grabs his hand, but he pauses in the doorway, staring up at the tinsel heart above them. She stops when he tightens his grip on her hand, and steps back under the doorway with him. His expression is unfocused, dreamy. She waits for him to speak.

"Wanna pretend this is Mistletoe?"

She stares at him. "I can't tell if you're kidding." She could always tell that he was kidding.

"I can't either." He intertwines their fingers.

She leans back against the doorframe. "Are we really doing this now?"

"Tell me you don't feel it."

"Of course I do."

"You're the reason. You're the reason it never works out."

"Don't blame all your failed relationships on me, now."

"I'm not."

She smiles softly. "You're the reason, too."

"Wanna pretend this is Mistletoe?"

"Okay."

They never make it to the party.

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 **So, do you guys like Alan? I think he comes off as annoying to start, but you'll like him more later. Trust me.**

 **Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: You can tell that I'm in love with this story because I'm posting three chapters in two days :) I'm so happy for all the support I've received! Well, a mixture of support and " _How could you do this to me?_ " haha. I'm sorry, guys.**

 **I've also received some very mixed feelings on Alan. Ah, well. He is a plot device, after all, and I think he's pretty functional. Plus, he's grown on me.**

 **Anyway, here's chapter three! Love you all to the moon and back.**

 **** _Note: I've taken the liberty of compiling some songs you should be listening to while you read this story, because I'm a dork lol._**

 ** _-The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack_**

 ** _-The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service (Will I recommend this song in every fic I write? Probably.)_**

 ** _-Use Ta Be My Girl by The O'Jays (Don't judge it's a great song)_**

 ** _-The Agency Group by Alvvays_**

 ** _-My Favourite Faded Fantasy by Damien Rice_**

 ** _-Didn't I (Blow Your Mind This Time) by The Delfonics_**

 ** _-We Don't Need Love Songs by Fitz and the Tantrums_**

 ** _-Ridin' in My Car by NRBQ_**

 ** _-Last Love Song by ZZ Ward_**

 ** _-The First Cut is the Deepest by P.P. Arnold_**

 ** _-and then go listen to the Roberta Flack song again just to get that feel back_**

 ** _Feel free to ignore my suggestions and just play your death metal, or Taylor Swift, or whatever gives you the_ _feelings.**_**

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Because I'm not a monster (and because I work on Capitol Hill - c'mon, I'm busy) I lay off my inquiry for a couple weeks. Plus there's the fact that while I may be a romance writer, and am thus drawn to tragically fated love, I am also a man, and I'm focused on finding some sparks of my own. Donna kindly set me up with a friend of hers the week before last, and things were wonderful for precisely four dates. When he dumped me, Donna was the one to invite me over to her apartment to drown my sorrows.

"I'm sorry about Ricky, Alan. I've always considered him a nice guy."

"He was a nice guy." I say dismally.

"Sure, but-" She's interrupted by a basset hound hurtling around the corner, baying loudly. "Damn it, Toby!"

She drags him by his collar into a bedroom, which I assume is hers, and shuts the door. The baying continues, though muffled. She straightens up, short of breath. "Sorry about that. He hates men."

"Right."

"Except for..."

"Josh?" I supply.

She looks at me cautiously. "Well, yeah."

She appears relieved when I don't press the issue any further. But, thanks to Toby, I've remembered my mission. I was sad, I was heartbroken, and, that's right, hungry for love. In any form. Even angsty, disappointed love.

We settle into the living room with a bottle of something cheap (Donna, her roommate, and I). I hope that perhaps Donna will begin sharing her "worst breakup ever" story out of sympathy, but no such luck. I resort to other tactics when she leaves for the bathroom.

"She's not the type to get tipsy and start talking about all her problems, is she?" I ask her roommate Clarissa hopefully.

"Donna? Oh, no. She can hold her liquor. Her ex, though? Get two beers in the guy and he starts sharing his soul."

"Josh?"

"Yeah. You know, those first few weeks after she moved back in here, I half expected him to show up drunk, like he used to. I guess it wouldn't have mattered, anyway, because those days she was still tucking herself into bed with a full bottle of wine at 8pm."

Well. That might just be the saddest thing I've ever heard. "They lived together?"

"Yeah, for six months."

"Wow."

"I don't know what happened with those two. They really loved each other, you know? I could tell."

"Huh."

Donna returns from the bathroom, but by then it was already too late. I'd had an epiphany. If Donna wouldn't talk to me about it, that was fine. I'd go straight to the source.

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When Donna's sent on a meeting with the Congresswoman's ex-husband the next week, I volunteer to tag along. She and Andy look at me suspiciously.

"I've never been to the White House. C'mon, it'll be good experience."

Donna shrugs. "Whatever." Three weeks of radio silence had worked. She's not onto me.

We trudge along to the White House, Donna looking unusually nervous. Or was she excited?

"Does she always send you on these?"

"A lot of the time, yeah. Sometimes she goes herself. But I used to work there, so I really know the lay of the land."

"Metaphorically speaking?"

"And physically. You'd be surprised how lost you can get in there."

"Right."

Once we've been cleared by security, Donna glances surreptitiously down a hallway to her right. She doesn't go down it. Instead, she leads me forward and down a different hallway.

"What's down there?" I ask, gesturing to the hall we'd passed. I already know the answer.

"Nothing." She says too quickly. "The bullpen."

"The bullpen?"

"C'mon. This is Communications." She leads me into a room cluttered with desks, and knocks on an open office door. The man at the desk, Toby I presume, looks up at us. Upon seeing Donna, his face comes close to something like a smile.

"Donna. Come in."

She approaches him, beaming, and kisses his cheek. "Toby. Good to see you."

"How's your dog?"

"He's good."

Toby nods. "And this is?"

"This is Alan. He works with the Congresswoman and I."

"You work for my ex-wife?"

"I'm a speech writer... Sir."

"Don't call me sir."

"Yes, sir." I flinch. "Damn it."

If anything, Toby looks amused. "He's almost as bad as Will. Speaking of which, let's get him in here." Without warning, Toby whips a red rubber ball at the window between his office and the one adjacent. From inside the office, a pale young man looks up at us before scrambling out of his chair.

"Need backup to talk to me, Toby?" Donna teases.

"Maybe."

"What's up?" The pale young man pokes his head into the office.

"Will, this is my ex-wife's staff. Or, some of it."

"Oh." Will smiles uncertainly. "Hi."

"We've met." Donna reaches out a hand. "I'm Donna Moss."

Will's eyes widen. "Right. Of course. We met at the inaugural ball."

Donna's smile fades. "Yes. We did."

"What a night."

"Will." Toby says sharply.

 _Okay. What happened at the inaugural ball?_

Will clears his throat. "Well, anyway. Even if we hadn't met, your reputation precedes you."

Donna raises her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Sure, everyone knows about you and-" Toby bounces his ball precariously close to Will's head, and he falters. "... You and all the great work you did while you were here." Will finishes lamely.

Donna looks at him in disbelief. "Thank you, Will. Anyway, this is Alan."

"Nice to meet you." I hold onto his hand for a second too long. He may be flustered, but I'm finding it kind of cute.

"You too. You're the congresswoman's...?"

"Speechwriter."

"Hey, me too."

"Really?"

"I mean, well, the President's speechwriter."

"The President's secondary speechwriter." Toby adds.

"Well, this is quite the meeting of the minds." We all swivel comically to find Josh, grinning boyishly and hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe.

"Damn it, who told him Donna was here?"

From where I'm standing, I can see one of the assistants outside widen her eyes in guilt.

"No one told me anything, Toby. I just came to talk to you about... A thing."

"What thing?"

"You know, the thing."

"Enlighten me."

"Toby."

"Josh."

"It's, you know... Confidential."

"Get out of my office."

He ignores him. "Hey, Donna."

She appears more at ease than she had when we'd run into him at the coffee shop. Most likely because she'd been expecting this. "Hello, Joshua."

"What brings you here?"

"She's here to talk to me about the President endorsing H504." Toby interrupts.

"Why didn't I get that meeting?"

"It's an issue of appearances. We wanted to keep it off your desk." I almost believe him.

"The President can't endorse it." Josh informs us flatly.

Donna sets her jaw. "And why not?"

"If it doesn't make it out of committee, we lose the upper hand. Ask me again when you've got reason to believe it'll pass." He says dismissively.

"For one, I'm not asking you for anything. And two, it'd make it out of committee if the President just endorsed it."

"It'll fall flat on the floor, six votes short. I've done the math."

"Which six do we need? I can guarantee you we'd be able to sway them." She says daringly.

"O'dwyer, Kimball, Lance, Jackson, Simon, and Baul."

"Easy. I could get all of those within half an hour if you guys bothered to step in."

"You couldn't. They want the leverage for budget negotiations."

"So we'll cut them a deal."

"It's not that easy."

"You're forgetting how persuasive I can be." I can't tell if they're fighting or flirting, but either way, I'm captivated.

"You're right, I'd forgotten how much Jackson's staff loves you." He taunts. I can feel that there's a story there.

She glares at him. "They certainly don't love you."

"Yeah, well if he hadn't-"

"Josh. That's enough." Toby interrupts, resembling a stern older brother. "This isn't your meeting."

"Should've been."

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Not really."

"Then I'll give you some. Will, go meet with Josh about the line in tomorrow's address."

"Okay." Will says doggedly.

"You know, technically I outrank you."

"Out."

Donna chuckles as he's shepherded out the door by Will. "Bye, Josh."

"Good talk, Donnatella." He glances at me for the first time. "Good to see you again, Adam."

"It's Alan."

"Alan. Right. See you."

Toby steps around us to close the door with an air of finality. "Right. Where were we?"

"The President's endorsement."

"Right. Well, as much as I hate to admit it, Josh is right."

We spar back and forth with Toby for a good fifteen minutes (or rather, Donna does) and by the time we leave she's secured an endorsement two weeks out provided we get a Republican to co-sign.

"You were great in there." I tell her honestly as we walk through the foyer.

"Thanks." She says, glowing.

I catch her arm before we reach security. I raise my hand to my forehead in feigned irritation. "Damn it, I left my bag."

"In Toby's office?"

"Yeah, you go ahead. I'll catch up with you."

She shrugs. "Okay."

I jog back through the hall and turn in to Toby's office. He looks up from the notepad he's scribbling something out on. "Can I help you?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Two weeks out is the best we can do, Alan."

"It's not about that. It's about Donna and Josh."

He stares at me over the rims of his glasses. "Tell me that saga isn't starting up again."

"Did it ever really end?"

Toby considers this. "Okay. What do you want from me?"

"I think they're still in love with each other."

Toby chuckles. "You and all of Washington."

"Well, good. We're on the same page."

"I don't have time for this. I don't... What's the word? Care." He returns his gaze to the notepad.

"I think you're lying."

"Excuse me?"

"I think you want to see them get back together as much as I do."

"How do you know they didn't have a terrible relationship? That they weren't miserable? How do you know they're not both better off?"

I shrug. "Just a feeling."

"Well, you're right. They were happy."

"Until...?"

"Until they weren't." He says simply.

"Why?"

"Shut the door."

Curious, I oblige. "What is it?"

"What I'm about to tell you must never be repeated."

I swallow. "Okay."

"I've never told him this, but... I'd take the happy, lovesick Josh I used to have - as annoying as _that_ was - over the sleep deprived, broken one I've got now any day."

I don't understand what he's telling me. It made sense, but why was it a secret? "Oh... Kay?"

"It's not because I care. It's just practicality. He worked better, back then. He worked less, but he worked... Better." He says gruffly.

"Right." I lower my voice. "And... Why is that a secret?"

"If he knew, I'd never hear the end of it. He'd mistake it for interest in his personal life, and he'd always be coming to me with his problems. I've already got enough of that."

I don't buy it for a minute. I think the guy's a big softie. For the sake of my cause, I don't say so. "So you're saying you want them to get back together?"

"God knows why a girl like Donna would ever stoop to Josh's level, but, they did make each other happy." He bounces his ball. "And the rest of us could actually get our work done."

"So why'd they breakup?" I ask again.

Toby rubs at his eyes. "You'd have to ask him. I have my theories."

"That's what I was hoping you could help me with. I want to talk to Josh."

"You're insufferably nosy, do you know that?"

"I've been told."

"Well, as it so happens, you'd be doing me a favor. Every Friday, without fail, he asks around the office for someone to go get drinks with him. By drink two, you can't shut him up."

"And you go with him?"

Toby shrugs. "Sometimes. Sometimes Will or CJ will. But once he goes through us, it's an open invitation to the office. And if he can't find anyone, he just goes up to the roof of his apartment and drinks alone."

"That's really sad."

"I know."

"Why the roof?"

"I don't know."

"So you're saying I should be here on Friday?"

"I'm not the one who told you."

"Thanks, Toby."

"I think you should go back to 'sir'."

"Thank you, sir."

"Get out of my office."

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Come Friday, I leave the office around six. Donna watches me curiously as I bustle around, collecting my coat and keys and various other items.

"Going somewhere, Alan?"

"Meeting a friend for a drink." Not a lie, per se.

"Have fun."

"Thanks."

Upon arriving at the White House, I duck into Toby's office. "Hello, sir." I greet.

"Oh, for god's sake, just call me Toby."

"I'm getting very mixed signals from you."

"What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I'm going to catch a Josh."

"God help us." He mutters, returning his focus to whatever he'd been working on when I came in. Fifteen minutes later, Josh swings around the doorframe.

"Hey, Toby."

"Mm." Toby doesn't look up.

Josh notices me lurking uncertainly in the corner. "Adam. What are you doing here?"

I fumble. Toby saves me. "He's here hammering out a drop off schedule for Molly and Huck. Because, evidently, that's something Andy has other people do for her now." He deserves an Oscar for how well he pulls off that lie.

Josh shrugs. "Tough break, man."

"Mm."

"Wanna go for a beer?"

"Can't. Busy."

For a writer, the guy really doesn't spare that many words.

"Damn. CJ is too."

I seize my opportunity. "I could go for a beer."

Josh furrows his brow at me. "What?"

Toby comes to my rescue, yet again. "The kid's new in town. He's looking for someone to show him around."

Josh continues to stare at me. "You're the romance writer, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He shrugs. "Grab your coat, Romeo."

I'm in.

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"So I wanted to ask you about Donna."

He turns to look at me sharply, and I trip slightly on the sidewalk. "Oh, God. Not another one of these."

"Another one of what?"

"Look, I don't know what it is. Maybe it was the inaugural ball thing, or whatever, but either way. I don't understand why every guy in DC seems to think that before he can get near Donna, he has to come talk to me." He shrugs as if this is the most ridiculous thing in the world to him, but I can see right through him. It's obviously a source of pride.

I roll my eyes. "I don't want to date Donna."

"I mean, I can get that I... Oh. You don't?"

"No."

"Oh." He looks a little disappointed. As if he would've liked to pick a fight with someone tonight.

"I just wanted to talk to you about her because, I don't know. She's my friend. And I'm curious."

"You're her friend, but you're just looking for gossip on her?"

"No. It's not like that." I struggle to find the words. "She can't talk about you, do you know that? It's been almost a year, and she still can't talk about you. I've gotta know what happened... So I know what to do about it."

"Why does anything need to be done about it?"

"Because I don't like seeing her this way."

He searches my eyes to see if I'm genuine. I think he decides that I am. "I don't either." He says softly.

"So... What happened?"

His cocky smirk of earlier has faded completely. "You're going to need to get a few drinks in me before I can talk about that, Alan."

"That can be arranged."

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 _June, 2002_

"I don't understand why you need so many bags for one week."

"It's only two."

As Josh drags one of her suitcases down the steps of his apartment building, two black SUVs pull up to the curb. A window on the one in back rolls down, and the Congresswoman leans her head out. "Ready for Maryland, Donna?" She asks brightly.

"You bet. Thanks for the ride."

"Don't thank me, thank Dave." The secret service agent driving her steps out of the vehicle and jogs over to them.

"May I take your bags, ma'am?"

"Oh, thank you so much." She smiles politely as he takes the bags off of her and Josh.

"Alright. Hop in."

"I'll just be a minute." Donna tells her.

"Fine. Get on with it." Andy rolls up her window to give them some privacy.

He turns to face her reluctantly. "So. I guess this is it."

She takes his hands, not looking at him. "It's only a week, Josh."

"Yeah. That's like, the longest we've been apart."

"Since we've been dating?"

"Since we met."

She bites her lip. "That can't be true."

"Think about it."

"It won't be that much worse than a couple days."

"It will be, precisely, three and a half times worse."

"Ha, ha."

"Don't go."

"I have to go."

"What if I forget what you look like?"

"You won't. You'll dream of me."

"Don't go."

"It won't be that bad. We'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know." He repeats it to himself, _We'll be fine._

"You're going to sleep while I'm gone, right? Not work yourself to death?"

"I don't know. Very little reason to come home."

"Here's one: you need to feed Toby."

"Right."

"If you kill our dog, so help me God, Josh-"

"He'll be fine, okay? It's me we should be worrying about."

"You've been living on your own for twenty years now. I trust that you'll live."

"Yeah, well." He says lamely. He's trying to draw the conversation out as long as he can.

She smiles softly, and slips one of her hands out of his. She wraps it around the back of his neck. "C'mere."

They kiss, in the street, for longer than they should. They don't notice when Andy rolls down her window again. "Donna! Minute up. Get in the car."

She pulls back with a smile, and wraps her arms around his waist. "Yes, ma'am."

"We have no time for men on this trip." She scolds. Her assistant, Ashley, and Chief of Staff, Lillian, second this with whoops from the backseat. "Except for Dave."

Dave grins.

"You sure you want to get in that car? I think they're drunk."

"It's okay, Dave's driving."

"Still."

"You know." Andy rests her head on a hand. "Of all the sides of Josh Lyman I thought I'd live to see, whipped and clinging to his girlfriend wasn't one of them."

Josh glares at her. "Okay, Andy, just because you don't have-"

"Josh?" Donna interrupts. "You want to try not to get into a fight with my boss right now?"

"She started it."

"I have to go."

"With her?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Don't let her turn you against me."

"Hey. I love you."

"I love you too." She kisses him one more time before climbing into the car.

"Bye, boy toy!" Andy calls with a wave as the SUVs pull away from his apartment.

He stands in the street, staring at their disappearing taillights. _It's just one week,_ he repeats to himself. _We'll be okay._

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 **Sorry for that ominous last line, you guys. I couldn't help myself.**

 **So, what do you all think?**

 **What broke them up?**

 **Will they get back together?**

 ** _What happened at the inaugural ball?_**

 **I'm afraid I've raised more questions than I've answered with this chapter, friends. Sometimes that's just how it goes. Stay tuned! I may post another chapter tomorrow! I've got ten chapters plus an epilogue planned out, so sit tight. I doubt it'll all be out in ten days, but I'm hoping not to draw it out too much :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This story is just so much fun to write. Honestly, I'm addicted.**

 **Earlier today, my boyfriend was up and doing a bunch of household chores (laundry, dishes, etc) and he even made me lunch, all while I sat on my ass. I asked him if he wanted me to help out and he replied "Babe. It's okay. I know you're building a fan fiction empire. No worries."**

 **:D This is love, guys.**

 **Without further ado, here's Chapter Four!**

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"You know, a month or two ago, she told me she asked some guy out. She told me that she asked some guy out, and he told her he would've wanted to, but he was too afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Of me." He chuckles dryly, taking a swig of his drink. "Can you believe that?"

I shake my head. "I'll bet that made you pretty happy, eh?"

"Happy?" He looks at me like I've lost my mind. "How could I have been happy? She asked some guy out."

I consider this. "Maybe she was just saying that to make you jealous."

He shrugs, disbelieving. "Maybe."

"You can't be upset with her. She's just trying to move on."

"Move on. Right." He stares into the bottom of his glass.

"Haven't you tried to do the same?"

"Define 'tried'."

"Have you been with anyone else since you guys broke up?"

He smiles again, that tipsy, bitter smile. "On second thought, maybe I haven't been trying so hard."

I stare at him in shock. "You haven't been with anyone in nearly a year?"

"Say that a little louder, why don't you?"

"Sorry."

He sighs, and rests his head on a hand. "I don't know, Alan. It's like the rest of it is cardboard."

"...Excuse me?"

"It's like, once you've had the real thing, everything else tastes like cardboard."

"Are we talking about relationships or tomatoes?"

"All the colors are diluted. Nothing feels... You don't feel anymore."

I consider this. "She's the one that got away?"

He raises his eyebrows. "The one that got away? No. She's just the one."

At this, I have to fight back a smile. "You do realize you're just dying to be written into a romance novel, right?"

He glares at me. "You've gotta lot of nerve for some guy that wants me to talk about my love life."

"Sorry, but it's true." I decide to change direction, because he's really beginning to look pathetic. "So why are guys afraid of you?"

He shrugs. "Dunno."

"Yes you do."

He lifts one corner of his mouth. "Okay, there might have been this one time. Donna and I had RSVP'd to this wedding, back when we were together. But she got some other guy to be her date. And it just so happens that the week after the wedding, he was fired."

"And I'm guessing he couldn't find another job in DC?"

"Well, yeah. But I didn't have anything to do with that." I just look at him, and eventually he relents. "Okay, fine. I may have pulled a few strings."

"That's really not cool, Josh."

"Yeah, well, maybe I really wanted to go to that wedding."

"I don't think it was about the wedding."

He ignores me. "So maybe it was that. Or maybe it was the inaugural ball incident. Whatever. Either way, I can't say I mind it too much."

"What happened at the inaugural ball?"

"Lots of things. Drinking, dancing. You know."

"Josh."

"Alan, work with me here. I'll get to it when I get to it. I need another drink."

I sigh and order him another. I'm starting to realize that in his own loud, messy way, this guy was in just as much pain as my friend was. "Can I ask you something?"

He nods before tilting his drink back.

"If she was the one, what happened to you guys? What could've broken you up?"

"Alan..."

"Did she end it?"

He considers this. "Well, if you want to be really technical, I think I did."

"You... Think?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was her. Let's call it mutual."

"I'm confused."

"I'm the one that started the conversation. You know, the conversation that inevitably... Ended things. But believe me, I intended for it have very different results." His eyes drift out of focus as he thinks back to November of last year. "I think it was the long distance."

"Long distance?"

"Yeah."

"The farthest she's worked from here is Maryland." Which, if I'm recalling correctly, isn't that far away.

"Well, yeah, but everything was hectic during the campaign season. I was gone all the time. She was gone all the time. And they weren't the same times. We didn't have a lot of overlap."

"That doesn't sound like it'd be enough to break you guys up." I chance.

He stares straight ahead. "It was fun, at first. Phone calls. Her tackling me on the Tarmac. Crawling into bed beside her at 3am. It was fun."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I felt like she didn't have to be away as much as she did. I felt like she didn't need to work as much as she did." He sighs. "And then the election came and went, and nothing changed. We didn't see more of each other."

"Why not?"

"I guess we didn't make time for each other. I didn't want to make time for her, because she didn't make time for me."

"That logic seems a little backward."

"Yeah, well. I didn't want to be the one to say it. I didn't want to be the one to beg."

"Beg for what?"

"I wanted to be important to her, but I didn't want to ask for it. So I... I don't know. I hid in my office."

"And how well did that work for you?"

He doesn't answer for a while. Realizing I might've gone too far, I don't push him."I get it, okay?" He says eventually. "I was a fucking coward."

"Josh-"

"But you feel like someone doesn't want to be with you, you don't much want to be around them either, you know? I figured if I said anything... It'd just drive her away. Give her one more reason to leave."

"Why did you think she was going to leave?"

"I have this thing with..." He gestures vaguely. "Abandonment."

"What if she was thinking the exact same thing? What if she was scared too?"

"Scared of what?"

"You leaving."

"Nah. I don't think so."

"What if both of you were too chicken to say that you wanted to come first? What if she just didn't want to put herself out there either?"

"Well then, Alan." He gives me another twisted smile. "I royally fucked up."

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 _November, 2002_

Josh slumps through his apartment door, closing it softly behind him. He was having trouble moving at his usual pace. He shrugs off his coat and shoes and lingers in the doorway to his kitchen, considering pouring himself a drink. He decides against it. She'd be here soon. And he wants to be awake for it.

 _I'm coming by after work to get a few of my things. You don't have to be there, I've got the key._ But he'd wanted to be there. It hurt to see her. But he wanted to see her.

 _A few of my things._ The only thing he could take solace in was that she hadn't said all of her things. She'd leave some behind, which she'd have to come collect later. And he'd get to see her again.

He collapses in a chair, and surveys their apartment. His apartment.

He doesn't remember what his apartment looked like before she moved in. He doesn't remember what the couch looked like without her grandmother's hand crocheted afghan on the back, what his shelves looked like without their pictures. _Fuck, is she going to take the pictures?_ What if she didn't want them? Does he even want them anymore?

He didn't know what his bathroom would look like without her overwhelming number of bath products (he didn't understand what you could need more than three for), her bobby pins, her hair ties. He was probably going to be finding those in his coat pockets for weeks to come, so there's one thing to look forward to.

His closet would probably look empty, without her taking up three fourths of it.

Toby waddles over to him, and rests his head on his knee as if in sympathy. She'd probably take the damn dog, too. Just when he was starting to like him.

He hears a knock on the door, and rushes to get it before she lets herself in. As he approaches it, he can feel his heartbeat accelerating.

He pulls open the door, and finds himself staring into space. He readjusts his gaze to meet the eyes of someone significantly shorter than he was expecting.

"Hey, J."

His heart sinks. "Amy, what are you doing here?"

Ignoring his tone and expression, she brushes past him into the apartment. "I heard that you and Barbie couldn't make it work."

"Amy..."

"It's a shame. I liked her."

"I don't need this right now."

"I think you do." She says dismissively. She stands in their living room, _his_ living room, and turns slowly. "Cute pictures."

"Please. Leave."

"I figured you could use a rebound, you know. And I was feeling generous." She says it so casually, as if she couldn't care less. As if she couldn't care less about him. Last year, he might've bought it.

He glares at her. "You couldn't have waited for the body to cool, could you, Amy?"

"Don't tell me. You're still upset."

"Her clothes are still in the fucking drawers, Amy."

She considers this, eyes pausing on the basset hound glaring up at her. "I never got a drawer."

"This isn't about you."

"You're right. It never was."

"This isn't like what we had, okay? You can't..." He trails off in frustration. "Forget it."

"How's it different?"

"It was real."

She finally meets his eyes. "Okay. I'll go."

"Thank you."

He follows her to the door, rubbing at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, J."

"Thanks."

He watches her leave, coat drawn tightly around her. At the end of the hall, she brushes past someone in the doorway. Both women pause, and look at each other. A second later, Amy is out the door, moving more quickly than before. But he's not watching her. He's watching the woman frozen at the end of the hall, staring at him in disbelief.

"Donna."

She turns to leave.

"Donna, no. Wait." He jogs after her, catches her on the steps. "Donna, c'mon."

"I can't believe you." She growls in a low voice. She yanks her arm out of his grasp and steps down to the sidewalk. He stumbles after her.

"Nothing happened. You've gotta believe me." He gets in her way.

"You couldn't wait one week. _One week_." She steps around him, not meeting his gaze, and heads for her car.

"I didn't ask her to come here."

"You knew I was going to be here tonight. Did you want me to see her?"

"No! No, I swear to God, I didn't ask her here, she just showed up. She was here for five minutes, I asked her to leave. Donna, please."

She yanks open her car door, but he reaches a hand behind her and closes it.

"Josh, let me get in my car."

"Donna, look at me. I'm still fully dressed. Come on."

"Josh. Move your arm."

He realizes, suddenly, that he is stronger than her. He had to let her leave. He had to let her leave, or she would never come back. He takes his hand off her car.

"I'll send someone else to pick up my stuff." She opens the door and climbs inside.

"I love you." He's not supposed to say that anymore. But he says it anyway.

She presses her lips into a thin line, and closes her door. She pulls away from his building, and he stays standing for a minute or two before collapsing on the curb. He can feel the eyes of the building upon him. He's probably just confirmed every fear his neighbors had about him since he'd broken the window.

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 **I didn't even give you a fluffy flashback to help you sleep tonight! I'm the worst. I will actually write their breakup, I promise, I'm just building suspense. If you're not getting how things went so wrong, I'll be providing some context in the next six chapters. Hopefully that'll help :)**

 **Until then, love you all! And love your reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey all! I'm sorry to say that this chapter doesn't have a lot of plot, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. I've really appreciated all of your feedback over the past week, and am glad to see you're as invested in this story as I am :)**

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"So, why the roof?"

Josh holds the door open for me as we step out onto his apartment building's roof. He doesn't answer immediately, walking out into the center of the roof. It's getting colder, so cold that our breath fogs the air, but Josh holds his coat in his hands. "She liked it up here."

"Donna?"

"Who else?" He sits down on the cement, and turns his gaze to the sky. Past tipsy, he sways back and forth slightly. "She loved the stars. Which I always thought was kind of dumb, because you can barely see them in DC. But she liked crap like that. Finding beauty in the mundane, or whatever."

"So you came out here with her?"

"Well, yeah. But not for the stars."

"So then why do you still come out here?" I tread closer to him, and stand at his side. I'm not keen on sitting down on the dirty cement with him.

"I keep trying to see what she saw."

"What do you mean?"

"I keep trying to look up at the sky and feel that same amazement that she always had. That awe."

"Did you ever feel it?"

"Yeah. But not for the stars."

I sigh and succumb to the inevitable, collapsing onto the roof and crossing my legs. I'd gotten him drunk, and now I had to deal with the consequences. I didn't mind. He was actually kind of sweet. "You're hopeless."

"She knew so many constellations, you know. She knew so much inane trivia. I miss that now. It used to get annoying. But now, I miss having someone to tell me the average lifespan of fruit flies, or the history of some grafittied building we're passing."

"She still does that."

"I'm sure she does. We used to sit up here, and she'd tell me about constellations. I swear to god she made up half of them."

"I know Orion's Belt. And the big and little dippers. But other than that, I'm lost."

"I think there was one about a bear."

"You could just stay in your apartment. If being up here reminds you of her."

"You think my apartment doesn't remind me of her?"

"Right. Sorry." I rub my hands together and blow into them. "Aren't you cold?"

"No. I don't really feel the cold."

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 _September, 2002_

"Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm cold."

"It's nice outside, Donna. It's still practically summer."

"It's fall. You're not cold?"

"I don't really feel the cold." He says gruffly.

"You're a liar."

"Am not."

"Well, I'm cold."

"Okay. C'mere."

Smiling, she crawls closer to him on the roof. He wraps one arm around her, and she slips her hands under his shirt. He inhales sharply.

"Hey!"

"You're like a space heater."

"Your hands are freezing!"

"I told you I was cold."

"What's wrong with you? They're like ice."

"I think I'm anemic."

"Well, wear gloves."

"You should just feel lucky that I didn't decide to stick my hands somewhere else." She grins.

"At least let them warm up before you do anything like that."

"Deal."

They settle into an easy silence, staring up at the sky. The stars are barely visible, tiny holes in a vast black blanket. "You see those stars, up there?"

"Donna, you're just pointing at the sky."

"Okay, the ones by Polaris. There's four there, and then a few going that way. See?"

"Not really."

"That's Ursa Major, and that's Ursa Minor."

"What?"

"Two constellations. Ursa Major and minor."

"Ursa, like... The little mermaid?"

"That's Ursula."

"Right."

"In Roman mythology, they're bears."

"They're... Bears?"

"Yeah. A mother and her son."

"I don't see it."

"The boxes. They're bears."

"The Romans must not have had a lot to do, because that's a real stretch."

"The story goes like this. So Jupiter, the King of the gods, falls for this mortal. And the mortal has his son. And his wife is, imaginably, not too happy about it. So she turns the mortal into a bear, so that Jupiter won't be in love with her anymore."

"Okay, you may not find this funny, but every time you say 'mortal' I want to laugh."

"Later, the bear runs into her son, the human. But he doesn't recognize her, so he tries to kill her. That's when Jupiter steps in and turns him into a bear, too, and immortalizes them both in the sky. Isn't that interesting?"

"How do you know this stuff?"

"I took astronomy in high school."

"And you still remember it?"

"I went to high school a lot more recently than you did."

"Okay, whatever. I'm pretty sure you're making all this up, anyway."

"I'm not!"

"They're boxes, Donna. They're not bears. They're barely even shapes."

"Multiple different civilizations identified those constellations as bears, you know."

"Multiple different civilizations had the same dumb idea?"

"Jerk."

"What kind of people just stare up at the stars in their free time, anyway?"

"Well, you do, apparently."

"Only because of you."

"Aw."

"Not a compliment." He pulls her closer to him, feeling the early autumn chill. Not that he'd admit it. His arm had gone to sleep, with her head on his shoulder, but he doesn't really mind.

"I feel like we never get to do this anymore." She says softly, looking away from her beloved sky briefly to glance at him.

"What, look at the stars? I don't know, I think I'm getting my fill. More than my fill, actually."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I do."

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"Even my fascinating astronomy trivia?"

"Even that."

"Good." Her hand under his shirt begins to trace his scar absently. "Can I tell you something?"

"What?"

"Lillian is stepping down, after the election."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Which means that Max is probably going to be promoted to Chief of Staff. And you know what else?"

"What?"

"Rumor has it that the Congresswoman is going to make me Communications Director."

He sighs. He couldn't pretend he hadn't seen it coming. Without thinking, he blurts, "Great. Longer hours."

There's a pause as she absorbs his comment. "What?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything."

She raises herself to sitting, looking down at him in shock. "Did you just say 'Longer hours'?"

"I didn't mean-"

"I tell you that I'm going to be getting a job I've worked my ass off for, for months, and all you can say is 'Great. Longer hours.'?"

"It was a joke, Donna."

"It wasn't funny."

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm happy for you. Honestly, I am. You deserve it."

"Do you know how hard I've been working?"

Yes. Yes, he was painfully aware. "I do."

"You don't get to say that, you know. You don't get to mutter 'longer hours' like you don't work twenty hour days, like you don't stumble home at two in the morning some nights."

"I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just miss you."

He reaches out to touch her arm, but she doesn't give. She looks away from him, glaring at something across town. "This isn't about you, Josh. This is about my career."

Of course it wasn't about him. "I know that."

"Do you still see me as just your assistant? Because I've moved past that. I want more than that."

"God, of course I don't, Donna. You're great at what you do. Honestly, you are. And you deserve the promotion."

"But you don't want me to have it."

"I do." He closes his eyes, the pinprick stars disappearing. "I just... Also want to see you. More than I do now."

"Things will be better after the election."

He doesn't know if he believes that, anymore. "Come on. We've only got two days, right? So let's not waste them fighting."

She still doesn't look at him.

"Can we just go back to looking at the stars?"

"You hate stargazing."

"No I don't. Not when I'm with you."

Eventually, she settles back down against him. He kisses the top of her head and tries not to shiver. It really was getting cold out here.

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 **I just had to write these parallel scenes. I couldn't help myself, even knowing that you guys want plot developments. Maybe I'll throw you a bone tomorrow ;)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I consistently get four to six reviews on every chapter of this story, and then, out of the blue, I only get two on chapter five? _Two?_ I see how it is, you guys. You're mad I didn't give you any plot.**

 **Hopefully, this will appease you :)**

 **Also! I found another song for this story (even though nobody seems to appreciate my DJing of my stories, lol). It's** ** _Romeo and Juliet_** **by Dire Straits. I'm also partial to the Indigo Girls' cover of it. I challenge any of you to find a better heartbreak song. Seriously.**

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"She was the best thing that ever happened to me. And, the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"That's very _Tale of Two Cities_ of you." I say dryly.

"Ah, shut up, would you?"

I push the door to his apartment open, and he tumbles inside. Once he's righted himself, he heads for his living room and sinks into the couch. I figure it's safe to leave him here, but first, there's something I have to do. "Josh, listen."

"Mm?"

"I want to help you."

"With what?"

"I want to help you get her back."

His head lolls over the back of the sofa, staring at me upside down. "Why?"

"Because. You're both unhappy."

"She's moved on."

"She said the same thing about you, you know. When we first bumped into you. She said 'It doesn't matter. He's over me.' Which, I can now confirm, is totally false."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, she hasn't moved on. And neither have you. And I don't think either of you will be able to until you sort through whatever's going on between you."

"You're just saying all this because you want to write a book about us."

"I'm not."

"She wouldn't be happy to know that you're doing this, you know."

"It's for her own good." I hadn't been totally sure of this fact until tonight. She hadn't wanted me to push the subject, and if my talk with Josh had gone differently, I likely would've respected that. But after seeing the third most powerful man in the country staring drunkenly at the sky, almost a year after he'd last admitted to loving her, hoping for just one minute to feel close to her again, I knew. I knew he was the one for her.

"That's a little presumptuous of you, don't you think? Maybe I was awful to her."

"Were you?"

"No. But I probably wouldn't tell you if I was, now would I?"

"Josh. Do you want her back, or not?"

"I do." He closes his eyes. "I guess that's the first time I've said it out loud, but... God. I really do."

"So you'll let me help you?"

"I can't go through this again, Alan."

"Go through what?"

"I can't lose her a second time."

"That's what I'm here for. To make sure that doesn't happen."

"You're strangely dedicated to a relationship you found out about three weeks ago."

I could tell him that maybe it's because he's magnetic, or that she is. Because both of those things are true. I could tell him that when meeting he and Donna, I'd met two shadows instead of two people. I could tell him that I've been sticking my nose where it didn't belong since I was six years old and trying to keep my parents from divorce. But I don't tell him any of that. "I spent all night listening to you and your pathetic whining. And, something tells me I'm the only one left to do so, because you've exhausted all of your friends. You're really going to complain?"

"I guess not."

"So. We've got a pact, then? To win her back?" I walk around to the front of the sofa and extend my arm.

He looks at me reproachfully. "I don't need your help, you know."

"Yes, you do."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mostly you need me to make sure you don't chicken out."

"Fine. It's a pact." We shake on it.

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 _November, 2002_

Josh shoulders his apartment door open, and once in the hall shrugs off his coat. He removes a small box from his coat pocket and slips it into the pocket of his slacks, intent on keeping it on him until the time was right. He heads into the living room and is unsurprised to find Donna on the couch, reading a briefing memo, apparently indifferent to his arrival.

She looks up. "Hey."

"Hey."

He thinks of last month, or maybe the month before that. Back then, she would've heard the lock turning, and tackled him in the hallway. Or, at least, broken out in a smile when she saw him. He thinks of the time he'd arrived home after three days on the campaign trail, and they hadn't been able to get their clothes off fast enough in the entry hall.

Sparks faded, sure. He knew that. But he didn't think that's what had happened.

Hopefully, though, all of that would change after tonight. He sinks wearily onto the couch beside her.

"How was your day?" She asks, eyes back on her reading.

He can't do it. He can't sit here and pretend that he gives a damn about his day, or her day for that matter. "Donna, I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what?"

"This. Us." He had to fix them. He couldn't go another day pretending this wasn't important to him.

She doesn't bother asking him to elaborate. She tenses beside him, and bites her bottom lip. Eventually, she sighs. "You're right. I think we should end it."

And then she's up and pacing, talking to him, at him. But he can't hear anything else. Because that wasn't what he'd meant at all.

 _I think we should end it._

And because that's what she thinks, he can't bring himself to contradict her. He doesn't fight her. He doesn't fight for them.

He just sits there, the engagement ring in his pocket weighing heavily on his leg, listening to her tell him everything that was wrong with the best thing that had ever happened to him.

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 **There, I wrote their breakup for you.** **My point with this scene is that they both let things end because they thought that's what the other wanted. We'll get more of Donna's POV on it later.** **Wasn't it heartbreaking? I actually teared up writing that last line.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Eight reviews on that last chapter? Okay. You're all forgiven :) I'm glad you liked it. Or, maybe not 'liked.' I'm aware some of you found it gut wrenching. Sorry.**

 **Either way, I'm so thankful for all of your feedback, gang. It means the world to me.**

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After some discussion, my new cohort and I decide that the first step in our master plan is to get Donna to stop repressing thoughts of Josh, and instead start remembering all the positives of their relationship. (Or, rather, I inform him that this is this best place to start, and he shrugs his accord).

He tells me that he can handle this step on his own.

I furrow my brow. "You're sure?"

He appears pale and a little queasy. "Yeah."

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about it. You've got a meeting here on Thursday, yeah?"

"Yeah, in policy."

"Stop by here, and then make some excuse to leave. I'll talk to her."

Come Thursday, I do as directed. Donna and I have a successful meeting with the policy wonks, and on the way back to the lobby, I ask her if she'll show me the bullpen.

"Why?"

"Because, that's where you used to work, right?"

"Well, yeah."

"I want to see it."

She shrugs, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. "Okay."

She really hadn't fought me hard on that one, I note. We walk into the bullpen, and I see him almost immediately, walking out of his office and holding a file. "Adrian, this isn't what I asked you to - Oh. Hi."

"Hi." We chorus.

"What are you doing here?" He feigns. I conceal a smile.

I allow her to explain. "We had a meeting in policy."

"And you're in the bullpen because...?"

"Because Alan wanted-"

"No, I see. You're dying to see me. I get it."

"Yeah, right. Didn't even know you'd be here."

"Here... Where my office is?"

"You could've been taking a day off." She teases.

He grins. "Just got back from a week's vacation, actually."

"Oh, yeah? Somewhere nice?"

"Hawaii."

"You don't look tan."

"You caught me. Want to come in?" He gestures to his office behind him.

"Yeah, sure." I answer for both of us. As we're heading in, I pause. "Actually, you know what? The congresswoman wanted me to give Toby a message. I'll be right back."

"Wait, what?"

"You stay here, I'll be back in a minute."

She looks from me to him, already inside his office, pretending to be distracted by the file in his hand, and back to me, trying my best to employ the acting skills I'd learned in my high school theater class. Her gaze comes to rest on him. "Okay. I'll be here."

I grin. "Bye." Before I've left the bullpen, I hear the door snap shut behind me.

Later, after I've wandered around aimlessly for about fifteen minutes, I finally decide to wait in the bullpen. Once she emerges, I could stand, and pretend I was poised to knock on the door. A flawed plan? Perhaps. But I don't want to interrupt.

When she finally emerges, dazed, I stand. "Hey, I was-"

Josh follows her out the door, grinning widely. He makes eye contact with me, and his expression clearly says, _Nailed it._ Donna is blushing profusely.

"I'll see you later, Donnatella."

"See you." She says hurriedly, and heads for the exit.

"Bye, Alan."

"Bye, Josh." I say before jogging after her curiously. I catch her in the lobby, her hands on a pillar. "Donna. What's up?"

At my words, she leans forward and knocks her forehead into the pillar. Once, twice, before I grab her shoulder. "Donna, hey! What the hell?"

"This is bad, Alan."

"What is?"

"I just called him babe."

"You... What?"

"We were in the middle of a conversation, and it just... Slipped out."

"You called your ex-boyfriend 'babe'?"

"Yes."

"That's really not so bad." What's more, she seems to agree with me. She's smiling.

"I know, it's just..."

"What?"

She doesn't finish her sentence. Her eyes eventually focus on mine. "Alan?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm ready to talk about him."

I'm floored. So floored, in fact, that I'm several steps behind her when she heads for the door. "You... Are?"

We pass security and head into the open air. "Yes."

 _What had he done in there?_ "Okay."

"It's just... His stupid smile."

"His smile?"

"I can't believe I haven't kissed him in nine months." She says softly, almost to herself. She's glowing.

I do some quick math. "Wait... Hold on."

"Mm?"

"You broke up a year ago."

"Right."

"But you kissed him in... February?"

She freezes, her eyes widening. "Oh, well. You know how breakups are."

"Enlighten me."

"We broke up, but... There may have been a brief moment of weakness."

"On your part or his?"

"Both."

"Okay, Donna, if you're going to talk about him, can we please start with this story?"

She considers this. "Well. Alright."

"Really?"

"I guess it goes back to the inaugural ball."

"You kissed him at the inaugural ball?" Finally, I was getting to the bottom of this infamous story. Despite my inquiry, Josh had never divulged what went down the night Bartlet was sworn into his second term.

"No. That was two weeks before the kiss. But, the story informs that one."

"Then, by all means. Tell it."

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 _January, 2003_

Josh's stomach had been hurting for going on two months by the time the inaugural ball rolled around. Since that fateful November night, she'd cleared her things out of his apartment. She'd taken Toby with her. If they happened across each other in the halls of the White House or Capitol Hill, she avoided eye contact and hurried past. He'd taken the photo of her off his desk, finally, and shoved it in a drawer he rarely opened. He could've thrown it away - he didn't know what was stopping him. Hope, maybe.

He slept at the office most nights. It was too hard to go home - because it wasn't home anymore. When you plan on waking up next to the same person for the rest of your life, getting out of bed suddenly doesn't seem worth it when they're not beside you.

He couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't do anything but chug caffeine and will his body to make it through the day.

He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand not talking to her, not being able to tell her anything, or tell her everything, like he used to. He couldn't stand the idea that she might still think him guilty of jumping into bed with someone else a week after they'd broken up.

But worse than that, he couldn't stand the fact that she thought this was what he wanted.

And so, leading up to the big night, he had mixed feelings. He wanted to see her. It didn't matter that it hurt; the times that he saw were the only times he felt real.

But, he didn't want to see her. He didn't want to see her across the room, casting those wounded glances at him as if he'd been the one who'd done wrong. Well... Maybe he had.

Or, worse, he feared seeing her there with someone else. She might come with someone else, and he'd be alone in a corner, drinking himself into a stupor as he watched her dance and laugh with some other guy who'd have the guts to tell her _she was the best goddamn thing he'd ever had_. The thought was enough to consider skipping the ball altogether.

He goes anyway. Because the President has just sent troops to Kundu, and he has to be where the staff is. He drinks, his stomach balled tightly, he dances with CJ and the First Lady and a few others, but mostly he talks to Leo, and he works, and he looks for her. Eventually he sees her, around ten, out of the corner of his eye, and she is predictably stunning.

She is wearing navy blue, and her hair is curled. Outside, snow is falling. And, as he is prone to doing as of late, he can't help but see the moment as it might've been, had they still been together.

He would've already messed up her hair, and her makeup, probably. They would've been late, because she would've hit him with a snowball, and he would've pinned her against the cab and-

Some guy is talking to her. He recognizes him. He's congressman Jackson's Chief of Staff, and the way he's looking at her is so _obvious_. He forces himself to look away. He closes his eyes for a split second, listening to the music, and resumes his vision of an alternate universe.

They would've been dancing, probably. She would've dragged him onto the floor, and they would've spun and twirled and laughed until that slow song came on, and then they would've come together, that look passing between them. They would've felt like the only two on the floor, and he would've murmured _'Have I mentioned how amazing you look?'_ for the tenth time that night, and-

She looks uncomfortable. He's not imagining it, is he? She'd been smiling a moment previously, but now looks tense. Jackson's Chief of Staff doesn't seem to have noticed, and is still practically drooling. _Her eyes are up there, pal,_ he's tempted to yell across the room. He closes his eyes again, for a split second.

He wouldn't have been talking to Leo so much. When he was pulled away, he would've smiled at her apologetically, and he would've kissed her, and she would've kissed him back even though she wasn't one for PDA, and-

His hand is on her arm. His hand is on her arm, and she definitely looks uncomfortable. He's not imagining it. He abandons his fantasy and makes a beeline across the room.

Once there, he pauses a few feet away from them to observe. Donna's eyes flick to him for the barest second, and, seemingly bolstered by his presence, says, "Could you take your hand off my arm, please?"

He can't help a small smile. She'd said _please_.

The guy furrows his brow. "And why's that?"

She makes to pull away. "Because, you're making me uncomfortable."

She doesn't pull hard enough. He continues to hold onto her, looking more amused than apologetic. "And here I thought we had a connection."

"I barely know you." She says with a tense smile.

"So let's fix that."

Josh decides it time for him to intervene. He steps up to the pair with a false grin, and he swears she looks relieved. "Hey, how's everybody doing?"

The guy, who's name might've been Mark, turns to look at him in surprise. "Uh..."

"Now, I could be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure she asked you to let go of her."

Whatshisface looks affronted. "What?"

"She asked you to let go of her."

Much to Josh's relief, Mark Whatever does let go of her, but only to step closer to him. "What's it to you? Who are you?"

"Oh, nobody, really. Just a guy who was around, and saw you being an asshole."

"Josh." Donna interrupts, her eyes wide. He doesn't look at her.

"What did you just say?" The guy asks incredulously.

"You heard me."

" _Josh_." She pleads. "Don't."

Mark whips around to look at her before turning back to Josh. "You know her, then?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Because whatever it might've looked like, a few minutes ago this bitch wasn't being so - _what the fuck?"_ Mark staggers backward, clutching his nose. Within a few seconds, blood is gushing from between his fingers, and he tilts his head back, struggling to see what was happening.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" The girl gasps.

Mark attempts to reassure the blonde that he was fine, but turns to find her cradling his attacker's hand in hers, gazing into his eyes with concern.

"Josh, are you okay?"

Josh stares, breathing heavily, at the bleeding man in front of him. He can't feel his hand. He can't feel anything.

"Yeah," he mutters. "I'm fine." Better than he'd been in two months.

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"What the _hell_ is the matter with you?"

Josh stares numbly at the wall opposite, his hand covered in ice. "I don't know."

"We're twelve hours into this term, and already you've gone and made us an enemy."

"Sorry."

"You do realize that Jackson was the only Republican on Ways and Means that we had any kind of relationship with, yes?"

"Yes."

"For god's sake, Josh."

Josh doesn't say anything. He'd thought that when Leo had forced a livid Toby and CJ out of the room, he was going to be softer on Josh than either of them. Apparently, he was mistaken.

But then, Leo softens his voice. "You've got to get over her, kid."

"Mm."

"I'm serious. You can't go around punching every guy that gets close to your ex-girlfriend."

"He put his hands on her."

"And?"

"And she asked him to let go."

"And, what did you think, he would've been able to do something to her? In a building swamped by Secret Service agents? Use your head, kid."

"Right."

"I know you really cared about her."

"Mm."

"More than you did for most of 'em, but... It's time to get up off the mat. You've gotta get over her." He repeats.

"Are you over Jenny?" Josh asks suddenly.

Leo seems taken aback by the question. "Well... No. But you don't just get over someone you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with."

"Exactly."

Leo smiles wryly. "Don't compare your year long relationship to my thirty year marriage."

"Right." _Because what we had was worth more._

"God, you look so pathetic. What do you want me to do, hit you?"

"That's probably not a good idea, Leo." He attempts a smirk. "As tonight has proven, I've got a pretty good right hook."

Leo chuckles despite himself. "Well, yeah. You really got him good."

"Do I detect a hint of pride?"

"What? No. You broke the nose of one of our vital contact's Chief of Staff. I'd have to be bloody insane to be proud of you."

And yet, there it was. The slightest smile. "I broke his nose?"

"Yeah. You did."

"Huh."

"It gets better, kid." Leo collapses into the seat beside him. "Honestly, it does."

"Right." He says noncommittally.

"You want to know how I know?"

"How?"

"I've been down here before. And I know the way out."

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 **I couldn't help myself with that last line, guys.**

 **Love you all, hope you're having a great week!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Another chapter, for your enjoyment! I know, I'm fast, right? Glad you guys liked the last chapter, and are begging for more. I'm happy to oblige :)**

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Over the course of the next few weeks, I learn a lot about Josh from his ex-girlfriend. It comes in sporadic bursts; the first night, she tells me the story of the inaugural ball and the kiss, but after that, her desire to share is very come and go. For example, I might ask her about him at eleven, and she'd look up distractedly from a file and say "Not now." But then, at 11:15, she'd look up balefully from the same file and announce "God, I miss the sex."

"I'm sorry?"

"I haven't had really good sex in... A year. Isn't that sad?"

I try to maintain a neutral expression. "It is... Sad."

"I go from having sex like, four times a week, minimum, to none at all. It's a shock to the system."

I choke on my coffee a little. "Four times a week... Minimum?"

She chews her pen absently. "Sorry, Alan, I've really gotta focus on this memo."

I mean, _what the hell?_ But I don't push it. Because at least she's talking.

In addition to these random declarations three to four times a day, we seemed to be making more visits to the White House than previously. The visits seemed a bit overboard for the two bills and one event we were coordinating with the White House, but hey, who am I to complain? Plus, it was pretty cute. All the flirting, and teasing. It was like they were learning to be in love all over again.

There was the time she forced him to try her pumpkin spice latte, only for him to gag and claim that it was disgusting and girly. Of course, she caught him drinking one the following day and refused to let him hear the end of it for a week. There was the time they went fifty rounds on a rider that was being attached to one of our bills, and ended up getting into it so much that they decided to continue it over lunch. At that point, I conveniently left them for a dentist appointment.

The first time I saw him after the whole 'babe' incident, when all of this was just starting, I dragged him into his office and away from his fifteen minute banter session with my coworker.

"Okay, what the hell did you do?"

"Things are going great, aren't they?"

"Yeah, sure. But I'm dying to know. What did you do to her?"

"Worked pretty well, eh?"

"Yeah, really well."

"That's good."

"So. Spill."

He shrugs, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "Ah, I didn't really do anything."

"You did something."

"Honestly. It wasn't a big deal."

"So show me."

He shrugs again. "Ah-kay."

He turns back to his desk and grabs a file. "So, I asked her to help me with the file I was reading, right?" He hands me the file. "She always used to love doing that, even after she wasn't working for me. So I gave her the file, and then I read over her shoulder. Like this." He stands behind me, and I can just barely feel his body against my back.

"Right. I'm not seeing how that's..." I trail off.

"And then I said, well, I dunno. Something about the way she chews on her pen when she's concentrating. You know?"

"Yeah."

"And I said something about how she's always sucked into whatever she's reading, well, except for now. Because 'something's obviously distracting you'."

"Me?"

"Her."

"Right."

"And then I crossed in front of her-" he crosses in front of me, "And just smiled. Like this."

His face is suddenly very close to mine. He's a little taller than me, maybe an inch or less, and I'd imagine that if the difference was any greater, this would be even more effective. He's got this half-smile on his face, and-

"Yeah, so, that's all I did." He takes a step back, and the spell is broken.

I try to ignore the fact that my legs have turned to jelly. I shake my head slightly, trying to clear it. I now know how Donna feels. _His stupid smile._ "Um, what?"

"Alan?"

"Mm?"

"Your voice got really high, just then."

"Um. I understand now." I have to refrain from tacking 'babe' onto the end of that.

He grins broadly. "So. What's step two?"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _February, 2003_

Donna was convinced that this was the most tense and uncomfortable meeting in the history of all meetings. She was feeling pretty bad, but really, the true victim was her boss Max - he had to sit through it.

From across his desk, Josh was casting baleful glances at her every few seconds. She couldn't help but return the stare. He didn't look so good. Pale, tired. He'd lost weight - but then, she couldn't talk. She was on her last belt hole.

The two of them were carrying on the meeting just fine without her, which was good, because she was having trouble concentrating. He was tapping his pen. Of course he was - he was always fidgeting. She misses that, his constant motion. She misses him pacing the living room, raving about theoretical physics.

She wonders if he could do any job but this one. It was tailor made for him; the five minute meetings, the surprises and rapid fire subject changes. They'd discussed retirement, once. He'd mentioned that he could consider taking a job as a professor. The image of him at 65, pacing the aisles of a lecture hall to his students' confusion, makes her smile.

"Donna? Care to weigh in?"

She returns abruptly to reality at Max's voice. He's gazing at her in concern, and so is Josh. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Could you give us a minute?" Josh interrupts. "I'm sorry, Max."

Max appears relieved, if anything. "Sure thing. I'll be outside."

She folds her arms as Max leaves, and shuts the door behind him. "What'd you do that for?"

"We need to talk."

"Why?"

"You've been staring at me for fifteen minutes."

"Well, you've been staring at me."

"Exactly. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"I don't know."

"Well, that's a good start."

"We could talk about what happened at the inaugural ball."

She falters. "Is... Is your hand okay?"

He seems surprised by her inquiry. "Yeah, my hand is fine."

"That's good."

"Hardly even noticed it, you know."

"Josh."

"What?"

"C'mon."

He gives her half a smile. "Okay. I may have had the First Lady examine it."

She chuckles. "That's what I thought. I'm sure she was thrilled."

"She thought I was being a bit melodramatic. With the hand, and with, you know, the punching."

"Right."

"She didn't even laugh when I said 'You should've seen the other guy'."

"That's hard to believe."

He shrugs. "Yeah, well."

She continues to stare at him. She doesn't want the conversation to end. "Had you ever hit anyone before?"

"Not since the fourth grade."

"You hit someone in the fourth grade?" She asks with amusement.

"I hit a lot of people in the fourth grade. I fought so much my, uh, parents thought about taking me out of school." He gazes down at his desk, trying and failing to pull this line off with bravado.

She remembers, suddenly, how old he was when Joanie died. "Oh. Oh, well. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He says brusquely. "Anyway-"

"I never thanked you."

He blinks. "Thanked me for... What?"

"For punching Mark Poston for me."

"I thought you thought I was being stupid."

"You _were_ being stupid. You were being stupid, and impulsive, and you escalated the situation far past what it needed to be. And beyond that, I could've handled it myself. But, I've thought about it, and... I think it was also a little bit sweet."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. And maybe even a little brave."

"Heroic, some might say."

"Don't push it."

"Right." He smiles. "Right, well, you're welcome."

 _His smile. His stupid smile._ "Come here."

"What?" He furrows his brow as she stands.

"Come over here."

He stands and walks around his desk. "What for?"

"Your thank you hug." At least, that's what she tells herself as she wraps her arms around his neck. That's what she tells herself as she feels at home for the first time in two months. But then, maybe she just wanted to hold him again. Maybe she just wanted to be held. He immediately reciprocates, and draws her close to him.

This felt too right. Or at least, it felt too good to be wrong. And for a moment, she forgets that it is.

Which is why when he pulls back to look at her, she doesn't draw away. She doesn't know who leans in first, him, or her. Or maybe it is neither of them, and it is just gravity. But, either way, in what feels like vey little time at all, she is melting into his kiss. She is melting into his kiss, and it goes from foreign to familiar in less than a second. He presses her against the wall, and all too suddenly she remembers that this is _wrong_.

She pulls back, short of breath. "No. No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"You know why not, Josh. We're broken up. This is over."

"Evidently, it's not."

She doesn't say anything for a little while. She rests her head against the wall, and closes her eyes. She can't bring herself to take her hands off of him, so she leaves them on his waist. "I can't do this again."

"Can't do what?"

"It hurt too much, last time. I can't go through that a second time."

"You won't have to."

"You say that now, but... As soon as things get rough, Josh, you check out." She couldn't do it again. She couldn't do the empty apartment, the hollow conversations. She couldn't bear him pulling away again.

"And you didn't?"

What was she supposed to do? Beg him to come home? Beg him to be in love with her again? "It just hurt too much."

"Tell me you don't still love me."

"Josh..."

"I'm serious. Tell me you don't still love me, and we'll call it quits." She is still on the wall, and he is still pressed against her. His eyes are intense, searching hers.

"We've already called it quits. We're over."

"Tell me you don't still love me."

"I can't do that." She admits.

"I still love you, too. Isn't that enough?"

"No. No, that's not enough."

"Why not?"

She attempts to look away from him, which is difficult given their close proximity. "We want different things." She says softly.

"That's bullshit."

"We do."

"Do you still want to get married?"

She bites her lip. "Someday."

"So do I. We both still want to get married, and move somewhere like Alexandria, some place with a yard. And we still want the two or three kids that all look like you."

She can't help a small smile. "But with dimples." She amends.

"Right. Don't tell me we don't still want the same things, Donna. We can still have all of that."

"No, we can't." She says adamantly. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to cry. "We can't have any of that."

"Why not?"

She doesn't answer. For the first time, she cries. The first time in front of him, at least. She hadn't cried when they'd broken up - she'd felt totally numb. It was only later, in her makeshift room at CJ's apartment, that the tears had started. They hadn't stopped until CJ had found her in the morning, eyes red and swollen, and gathered her into her arms.

She hadn't cried when she'd bumped into Amy. She's felt sick, then. She'd felt like she was going to throw up. And she did. She pulled up outside her apartment building and vomited on the sidewalk. And then she'd climbed back inside her car, shut the door, and slumped over her steering wheel, sobbing.

But now, weakness be damned, she cries. She cries for their wedding, and their children, and their house, and all the things she couldn't imagine having with anyone else.

"Donna?"

"You can have all that with someone else." She says through the tears. He reaches up to wipe them away with his sleeve. "We can both find other people."

"Don't you get it? I don't want that with anyone else. This was supposed to be endgame. I don't want to have to go on any more first dates, or get to know anyone else, or meet anyone else's crazy, conservative, Irish-Italian family." She gives a watery chuckle. "Or anyone's nice, liberal family for that matter. I could have all that with someone else, but I just don't want to."

"That just sounds like laziness on your part."

"We can still have it all, Donna. All we did was lose two months."

"We can't. We just _can't_ , Josh."

He must finally accept her words as true, because he hits the wall behind her in frustration. She jumps. "Sorry, I didn't mean... Sorry."

She raises her own hand to wipe her remaining tears, and takes a deep breath. "No, no, it's okay. You're a man, and men need to hit things when they're upset, right?"

He smiles despite himself. "Yeah. Right."

"If it makes you feel better, than hey, go for it. Just, as long as you don't hit any more people."

"Actually, if you've got any more guys hanging around you, you could send 'em my way. That'd help."

"I'll see what I can do. There aren't many of them left who've got the balls, you know, after your little stunt."

"Good."

She smiles softly. She still hasn't taken her hands off him. "You've lost weight." She attempts to change the subject.

"So have you." His hands squeeze her hips.

"Thank you for noticing."

"Not a compliment."

"I've gone on a diet."

"Oh yeah?"

"A diet called not having the energy to chew."

"That's funny. I'm on the same one."

"It'll get better, right? It won't always feel like this."

"I dunno. Never really felt like this before."

"It feels bad."

"Really bad." He agrees.

"We can try to be friends."

"Yeah." He chuckles. "That'll work."

"I'm serious."

"I didn't sleep with Amy." He says suddenly.

Her chest constricts involuntarily. "Josh..."

"I need you to know that. I need you to believe me. Or else we'll never be friends, or anything close to it."

"We broke up. You're at perfect liberty to sleep with whoever you like."

"But I _didn't_. She came over, and she asked me to. She asked me, you know, if I wanted a rebound. I said no."

"Why?"

"Because. Your clothes were still in the fucking drawers, Donna. There was a picture of your family on the night stand, and the sheets still smelled like you, and, God... I just couldn't. Even if I'd wanted to, I just couldn't."

"But you didn't want to?"

"No. That night? The only thing I wanted was to see you."

He looks so pained, so earnest and pleading. She sighs. "Okay. I believe you."

"You do?"

"It took me hours to get you to put on your clothes after sex. And you were wearing your tie."

He grins. "That's right. I guess I still was."

"And your belt."

"You're very observant."

"I have a thing for the details."

"I've noticed." He looks away. He pauses before saying softly, "It would've been our one year anniversary next week, you know."

"I do know." She'd been thinking about it all week.

"God. We couldn't even make it a year." He says bitterly.

She doesn't know what he's going for, humor or disappointment. Either way, she hates it. "So... We can try to be friends now?"

"We can try."

"You should probably let go of me, then."

He looks down at their position, still backed firmly against the wall, their hands on each other. "Right."

"No, wait." She says suddenly as he makes to pull away. She looks up at him nervously, trying not to appear too desperate. "Could you just... Hold me, for a minute?"

Without hesitation, he pulls her into his arms. "Of course. As long as you want."

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 **You know, this is the scene that actually inspired the story. Before, it might've been a one-shot, the run in at the coffee shop. But then I saw this flashback, to his office, to the kiss and the begging (and the angst!) and I just fell in love with this story :)**

 **On a completely unrelated note, I actually researched that one sentence about pumpkin spice lattes. Did you know that though they weren't introduced nationwide until fall 2004, Starbucks debuted PSLs in Vancouver and Washington DC to mass success in fall 2003? Well, now you do.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, and I'd love for you to leave me a review! I've appreciated all the ones I've gotten so far immensely.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I know, this story was due for an update more than a week ago. I just got overwhelmed with work, and this was shoved to the back burner. I'm sorry - I'll try not to disappoint you again.**

 **Anyway, I've received an overwhelming amount of feedback on this story - in a really good way. I've loved hearing from you guys, and am glad you're enjoying what I've written so far. I could go on for days about how my readers are just the _best_. I'm excited to hear what you all think as we near the end of our story!**

 **And a special shoutout to _Tractor Girl_ for being the only person, ever, to comment on any of my song selections ;) Maybe I should just keep those to myself from now on haha.**

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"No."

"Josh, c'mon."

"Alan, no. I'm serious."

"We have to do something."

"Not that."

I roll my eyes at his stubbornness. Things had been going so well the past few weeks, he's now afraid to take the next step. I knew this would happen. "You can't stay at a standstill."

"I'm not."

"Last time you guys were at this stage, it took you three years to get to where you wanted to be. Do you want that to happen again?"

"No." He admits with a frown. "But, honestly, Alan. Jealousy? That's not going to work."

"Yes it will."

"And beyond that, it's petty. And mean."

"It's not like you're going to do anything _serious_ -"

"I don't want to do anything at all."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm not, okay?" He glares at me. "You don't purposefully hurt the people you care about. You just don't."

"It won't be a big deal. Just a little healthy jealousy, to make her realize how she feels."

"Listen, if she feels anything for me like I do for her... Then, yeah." He shrugs. "It will be a big deal."

I scoff. "Josh-"

"Alan, if you could've seen her that night. The night she thought I was with Amy." He closes his eyes briefly, and shakes his head. "I'm not doing it. I'm not gonna risk it."

"She'll be fine."

"Yeah, maybe she will, but what will it say about me? That these past few weeks have meant nothing, that we're out there acting like... _That_." He gestures vaguely out the door of his office. "And I turn around and go out with someone else? What does that make me?"

He has a point. "Desirable?" I chance.

"Forget it, Alan."

I look at his adamant expression. "Fine." I mutter mutinously. "I'll figure something else out."

"You know, at this point, I really don't need your help."

"Three years, Josh. It took you three years."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

As I follow Donna into her apartment, my palms are beginning to sweat. I shrug off my coat and immediately shiver slightly, anticipant of what I plan to do. Her roommate, Clarissa, looks up from where she's reading on the couch with a wave. "Hey, Alan."

"Hey, Clarissa."

Toby, now accustomed to my presence, merely gives me a suspicious sniff before toddling after Donna. She heads into the kitchen to get us some drinks, chatting animatedly about some polling data we'd received earlier in the day. I take a seat in an armchair, concealing an evil smile with the knowledge of my plan.

I was going to do it anyway.

Given, the whole jealousy ploy would work better if there was actually something for her to be jealous of, but without Josh on my side, I'd have to make do with an invented rumor. I know that he's against the idea, but on further speculation, I just couldn't see how the idea of your ex (of a year, I might add!) going out with someone else could really upset someone beyond a general fluster and pang of nostalgia. And, once she'd felt these things, I was sure she'd come around to the conclusion that she was still in love with him and should win him back.

And then I'd have both of them on the same page, and - you see? You see how this is a great plan, in theory?

"Here ya go." A beer appears in front of my face, proffered by a cheerful Donna.

"Thanks."

She curls up on the couch next to Clarissa, facing me. "I'm sorry... What were we talking about?"

I seize my opportunity before she can get back on polling data. "I'm glad to see you and Josh are becoming friends again."

She smiles shyly. "Oh, yeah, well. Me too."

"You guys were good friends before you started dating?"

"Best friends, actually." She says softly, and her eyes drift out of focus. "I've missed that."

"Well, that's good then. That you guys are moving forward."

"Right."

"I heard something while we were in the West Wing today. Apparently he's got a date tonight."

"Who?" She says blankly, though I detect a hint of alarm.

"Josh."

"Who told you that?" Her voice is suddenly much colder.

"Toby." I cover quickly. "He was complaining about how much Josh tells him about his personal life." That's perfectly in character, right?

"Oh." She says, barely audible. "Oh."

I'm distracted from the conversation by Clarissa standing. She holds eye contact with me as she walks behind the couch, out of Donna's line of sight. From there, she glares at me, and mouths something that might be _What the fuck?_

I return my gaze to Donna. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She stares into the bottom of her beer bottle. "Hm? Nothing."

"You're not bothered by it, are you?" I prompt. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

She purses her lips. "I just thought..." She trails off, and shakes her head firmly. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Typical." She mutters, and I'm not sure if she's talking about me or Josh, though I'm assuming the latter.

I don't know what to say. I am realizing, very rapidly, that this is not having the intended effect. This isn't the cute kind of jealousy - it's the sad kind. She looks defeated. Left behind. The hurt pooling in her eyes contracts my stomach. Oh, God. What have I done?

"Hey, do you mind if we just watch the news? I don't feel much like talking." She says, her voice robbed of its usual expressive quality.

"Of course not, sweetie." Clarissa jumps in immediately, continuing to glare at me. I'd never heard her use a term of endearment before.

I clear my throat. "No, that's fine." As she fiddles with the remote, I stand and make for the bathroom. "Be right back." I mutter.

Once inside, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial, waiting impatiently as it rings. Once, twice, three times... I bounce on the balls of my feet, one hand contracting into a fist.

"Hello?"

"Josh." I greet with relief. "I need your help."

"With what?"

"I did something wrong."

There's a pause. "Oh... Kay. What?"

"I did the thing you told me not to do."

"You..." He sounds confused for a moment, before it clicks into place. His next words are menacing. "Alan, you didn't."

"I did." I barely squeak out.

"What the fuck did I tell you?"

"You were right."

He sighs. "Where are you?"

"Her apartment."

"I'm coming over."

"But you're supposed to be out with someone right now."

"I... Oh, for fuck's sake. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

By the time I return to the living room, Donna has changed into sweats and is horizontal on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. Clarissa is in the armchair, scowling at me. I decide against asking for a place on the couch, and settle onto the floor, tension building in my stomach as I wait for my backup to arrive.

Almost half an hour later (and I've definitely been watching the clock), the buzzer goes off. Seemingly deducing that Donna isn't likely to move, Clarissa goes over to it. "Who is it?"

"It's Josh."

Clarissa whirls around, and she and her roommate share a look of shock. Clarissa recovers and turns back, pushing the button again. "Um, what are you doing here?"

"Could you just buzz me up?"

If Clarissa had turned around, she would've seen Donna shaking her head vehemently. But, fortunately, she doesn't. "Uh, yeah, okay. Sure."

"What the hell did you let him up for?" Donna groans upon Clarissa turning back to face her.

"I don't know. You guys are friends now, right?"

"Well, yes."

"So... Why wouldn't I let him up?" If I hadn't guessed it before, Clarissa's expression in this moment confirms that she, too, is Team Josh.

"Because... Ugh!" We're interrupted by a knock at the door, and Donna reluctantly drags herself off the couch to answer it. She pulls the door open, but before she can say anything, Toby gives a celebratory howl and rushes past her to greet the familiar visitor. Josh bends down to scratch his ears, grinning broadly. "Hey, boy."

"What do you want?" Donna demands, apparently indifferent to the touching reunion.

Josh straightens up and smiles nervously. "Hi."

"I asked you a question."

"Right. You don't look too pleased to see me."

"I have company."

He peers past her as if he doesn't already know I'm here. "Hi, Alan." His tone is friendly enough, but his gaze is sending daggers.

"Hi." I say weakly.

"So, you're here because...?"

"I had a date tonight." He says abruptly, appearing as though the lie was hard for him.

She doesn't bother trying to look surprised. "Good for you."

"Not really."

"No?"

"Leo wrangled me into it. Some friend of his daughter's."

"You went out with one of Mallory's friends?"

"Wait. No. Some daughter of his friend."

"Okay. And it wasn't so good?" She deduces.

"Yeah. Got out of there as soon as I could."

Her demeanor thaws considerably. "You did?"

"She thought the Dow Jones was a person."

She can't help a chuckle. "That bad?"

"That bad."

"And you came... Here?"

He dodges her implication. "Hey, wanna grab a drink with me?"

"Do I... What?"

"You. Me. A drink."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Are you... Asking me out?"

He rolls his eyes. "We dated for nine months, and you think that if I wanted to take you out, it'd just be for a drink? C'mon. Give me some credit. You know me better than that."

"So... Just as friends?" This doesn't seem to bother her. In fact, she's smiling widely.

"Sure."

"You won't drone on about your loneliness, will you?"

"No promises."

"What about Alan?"

"What about him?"

"I invited him over. It'd be rude to leave."

"No, really, I'm fine." I pipe up. "Go have fun."

She turns to look at me. "Are you sure? You could come with us."

"I didn't invite Alan." Josh says, glaring at me over her shoulder. I wither.

"Josh." She scolds, though her smile negates any admonishment.

"I'm serious, Donna. It's fine." I assure her.

She bites her lip, now seriously considering the idea. "Well... Okay."

"Okay? Yes?"

"Can I go change first?"

"Definitely not."

"But I'm wearing sweatpants."

"I remember how long it takes you to get ready. We're going." He reaches past her to grab her coat from the hook, and helps her into it. She relents, allowing him to shepherd her out the door.

"Bye, guys."

"Have fun." I call.

With one last glare from Josh, the door snaps shut. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"You're lucky he showed up, you idiot."

I merely nod at Clarissa's declaration. "Yeah, I am."

I decide to stay for a while, to see how the evening plays out, despite my less than friendly company. Eventually she thaws, and we settle on a movie to watch until our favorite pair gets back. I feel like an overprotective father, waiting for his daughter to come home from a date.

My first clue that they're back is the sound of giggling from the hallway, a good two hours after they'd left. My ears perk up and I twist in my seat to watch the door. It opens a moment later to reveal an obviously tipsy Donna, held up by Josh's arm around her waist.

"And then - and then - remember? - and then she knocked over the end table on her way out!"

He chuckles. "No, I'll never forget that."

"God, I miss her so much."

"She misses you too. She's glad you've been coming by to see her more, though."

Donna's laughter dies down, her cheeks flushed a deep red. She looks down at the basset hound pushing his nose into her knee. "I haven't been going to see CJ."

"You haven't?"

"No."

They both stand still in the doorway, staring at each other. Eventually, she coughs. "Well, um."

"Right. Right, I should go."

"Yeah, probably." She says reluctantly.

"I should go too." I interject, and they both turn to look at me in surprise.

"Alan. You're still here?" Donna asks.

"Yeah, Alan. You're still here?" Josh repeats dangerously.

"Yeah. Stayed to watch a movie with Clarissa." Clarissa backs me up with a thin lipped smile. I stand and brush past them into the hall, breaking the tension between them. I don't mean to do so, but I know I need to talk to Josh before he leaves.

They glance back to each other. After a moment, he pulls her into a hug. "I'll see you."

"Yeah. See you." She pulls back, contented, and gives me a wave. "Bye, Alan."

"Bye."

She closes the door, and Josh and I walk together in silence to the elevator. Once the doors close, I turn to him imploringly. "Look, I'm really sorry."

"I told you not to do it, Alan."

"I know." I say sullenly.

"It's okay."

"It... Is?"

"Yeah. We had a good time."

I chance a slight smile. "I could tell."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And you know what?"

"What?"

"I think it's time for the final phase of our plan."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _February, 2003_

Donna enters the coffee shop, tired and numb. She orders before shuffling to the side, her smile to the barista half-hearted.

It has been three months.

Three months and six days, to be precise. Not that she was counting. And two weeks to the day since the kiss. Their agreement to be friends hadn't exactly panned out - they hadn't spoken since then. She's been busy, sure, and he doubtless was as well, but she knows it can't be attributed completely to that.

That's when she sees him. He's at the front of the line, his wallet in his hands and his phone cradled against his shoulder as he attempts to pay for his order. The sight of him arrests her. Despite her surprise, his familiar mess makes her smile.

In the time it takes him to spot her (he drops his phone, comically) and cross the shop toward her, she can't help but think that this doesn't feel anything like it would to spot a friend in a coffee shop. She wonders if they will ever be able to be "just friends" again.

She just knew too much.

She knew everything about him. She knew his likes and dislikes, his favorite foods, the way he liked his burger (burnt), she knew his mother and his favorite baseball players. She knew what he looked like when he was in more pain than he was willing to let on, she knew that he mumbled in his sleep and even more so when he was strung out on pain meds. She knew what he was thinking, just from looking into his eyes. She knew his SAT scores, his grades in college, what music he liked.

And all that was before they were even together.

She'd thought she'd known all there was to know about him, but being with him had brought new knowledge of its own. She now knew that he was (to her surprise) a little clingy, wrapping his arms around her in the kitchen at 5:30am, a time when most people desired space. She knew his kiss, knew it so intimately in fact that she still dreamt of it. She knew how he liked to sleep, and the way that he looked at her when he wanted her. Even across a room, surrounded by other people, that look could make her blush all over.

She doesn't know how to forget that.

She doesn't know how to be friends with him anymore, to pretend that she doesn't remember the days of clambering into the shower together to "save water," the nights of him pulling her toward him, half-asleep.

"Hi." He greets lamely upon reaching her.

"Hi."

"Um, how's Toby?"

"He's good. How's... Toby?"

He smiles widely. "He's good."

Despite knowing that his schedule is erratic, she comes to that same coffee shop, every morning for almost a year. Just hoping to see him.

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 **Surprise! That meeting in the coffee shop, way back in chapter one, wasn't so chance after all :)**

 **We're almost there, guys. Just one more chapter and an epilogue. Are you excited? I know I am.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 ****After reading some early reviews: The 'I Hate Alan' party train is officially back up and running full steam ahead.**

 **Party on, haters. This chapter makes me hate him a little bit too ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Guys I did it! I finally finished this chapter! I know it's taken me a while, but here it is at long last. I've just been a lot busier than I expected since classes resumed. Thank you all for being so patient. Your consistent feedback is what's kept me going, and I'm so thankful to have such wonderful readers and reviewers.**

 **Without further ado, here's Chapter Ten! All that's left is the epilogue :) But to my friend db - it's safe to read at this point! I promise!**

 **Hope you all enjoy!**

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While Josh may have supposedly forgiven me for my mishap, he also completely excluded me from any and all plans involving our shared goal for the next several weeks. As if I didn't feel bad enough already. And I knew there _were_ plans, because I saw many of them executed before my own eyes. It would've stung if it wasn't all so damn touching.

Christmas was coming up, and I rapidly learned that this was one of Donna's favorite times of year. The Monday after Thanksgiving, she bustles into the office, humming _The Christmas Song_ and decked in a Christmas sweater and accordingly themed jewelry. Over the course of the week, she decorates her desk with tinsel and other little holiday trinkets. She plays music. She goes on at length about shopping, and parties, and snow, and if there was any peppermint flavored coffee or pastry within a ten mile radius, she somehow got her hands on it.

Of course, Josh already knew all of this. And he certainly used it to his benefit.

In the second week of December, he strolls into our office unannounced. Donna looks up from the memo she's annotating with a candy cane striped pen and smiles. "Josh."

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"Had a meeting down the hall, thought I'd stop by. Hey, Alan."

"Hey." I greet curtly. He could've at least told me he was coming.

"What's that behind your back?" Donna asks, observant as ever.

"What? Nothing."

"It's not nothing, or else you wouldn't be hiding it." She reaches over her desk to grab at his arm playfully. He willingly pulls it forward, holding in his hand a wrapped, rectangular package. She narrows her eyes. "What is it?"

"Fine." He relents. "It's your Christmas present."

Her eyes widen. "You got me a Christmas present?"

"Yeah. I mean, I just sort of had it laying around." He backtracks. "Thought you might want it."

"What is it?"

"You'll have to open it to find out." He hands it to her.

She stares at it in her hands as if slightly intimidated by it. "You didn't get me a present last year."

"Yeah, well, last year you hated me."

"I didn't _hate_ you."

"Sure. But let's just say that if I'd shown up like this at your office, this time last year, I wouldn't have exactly received a warm welcome."

"Okay, maybe that's true."

"Andy would've chased me out the door with a broom."

She grins at the thought. "It's too early for presents, you know." She says, obviously doing all that she can to prolong the time before she must open said present.

"Maybe I'm doing a twelve days of Christmas sort of thing."

"Are you?"

"Well, no."

"Then it's too early."

"Well, there's a part two. Which I had to give to you today."

"There are _two_ presents?"

"Okay, don't get too excited." He admonishes. "Part two can hardly be described as a present."

"Then what is it?"

"Will you just open the damn present?"

"What's part two?"

"I'll take it back and give it to someone who wants it, you know."

"Fine, fine." She grumbles, finally beginning to tear off the paper. She hesitates upon uncovering the back of a picture frame, perhaps afraid of what she'll find when she turns it over. Once she does, however, she begins to laugh uncontrollably.

"What is it?" I can't help but ask from my desk. Through her laughter, she turns the picture toward me so I can see it. It's her, in her underwear, holding on to Toby (the dog, not the person) in a bathtub. She looks outraged at whoever is taking the picture, presumably Josh.

"You kept this?" She finally manages, her laughter fading into occasional chuckles.

He smiles, pleased with his gift's reception. "Well, yeah. I kept the camera, if that's what you're asking."

She looks at him critically. "Oh really?"

"It had other... Stuff, on it. Important things."

"I'm pretty sure that camera was filled with pictures of you and me."

He shrugs. "Yeah, well." _You know, important stuff,_ we're all left to conclude.

"Well, I like it. Thanks." She rises out of her chair and leans across her desk to kiss his cheek.

"I'm glad. It'll give Toby a reminder, that, you know, he's loved."

"Right. Of course." She allows. "Not that I'll be putting it any place that anyone can see it, but..."

"Why not? It's a great shot."

"I'm in my underwear." He merely grins at this, and she rolls her eyes. "Okay. Fine. What's part two?"

"Geez. Material culture these days. Can't even wait five minutes between presents."

"Josh."

"Okay, fine. It's more like an invitation."

"Ooh, to something swanky?"

"The President's movie marathon, actually."

She rests her chin on her hand. "Go on."

"For the next two weeks, he's showing what he believes to be the pinnacle of Christmas cinema."

"Ooh, Christmas movies? For two weeks? That sounds so fun!"

"For some of us, maybe." He mutters. "You weren't there when he was droning on about the historical significance of Miracle on 34th street."

"Oh, I love Miracle on 34th street!"

"I know you do."

"He and I actually talked about it once! We discussed having it preserved by the Library of Congress."

"He mentioned that."

She grins. "So you scored me an invite, huh?"

"It was very hard to do." He says somberly.

"I'm surprised, actually, I thought we were banned."

He grins shamelessly. "Oh, yeah, well. Maybe he's forgotten it."

She raises her eyebrows. "The words 'lifetime ban' were thrown around."

I stare at them curiously, trying to discern why they're both smiling and blushing slightly. "Why were you banned from the President's movie theater?"

They share a furtive grin. "There may have been... An incident." Donna starts.

"Donna couldn't keep her hands off me." Josh interrupts.

"Me?" She splutters. "Oh, so now it's my fault?"

"I'm just saying, if you could've stayed in your own seat-"

"I was in my own seat!"

"You were on top of me."

"I may have migrated slightly from the confines of my own seat, but that doesn't mean-"

"You were in my lap, Donna. We were blocking CJ's view. And CJ's not a short woman."

"It wasn't my fault, okay! I'm pretty sure you moved me, anyway!"

"I did not." He scoffs.

"You definitely had a hand in it, let's just say that." Her eyes widen and she blushes even more brightly upon realizing what she'd just said. "Okay, when I said that-"

"Oh, we all knew what you meant." He grins impishly.

"Besides, I really think that the movie was to blame."

"What movie was it?" He frowns, trying to recall.

She stares back at him, flustered. "Um... I don't remember."

"I don't either." A silence settles between them, and it rapidly becomes awkward as they both recall that night. He coughs. "But, uh, anyway. I think you'll be allowed in, as long as you stay in your own seat this time."

Her blush fades, and she looks up at him. "You're right. Maybe we should sit on opposite sides of the theater tonight, just to be safe."

"You think you'll have trouble resisting me?"

"Oh no, not me. Just worried for your sake."

"No need to be."

"Really?"

"Really. But you know there's only one way to see."

"What's that?"

"Sit with me. And I'll prove just how wrong you are."

"Oh ho. Is that a challenge?" She dares.

"Think you're up to it?"

"I think I'll manage."

"Just try and keep your eyes on the movie this time, Donnatella."

She rolls her eyes. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"So I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah. You will."

"Alright. See ya, then."

"Bye. Thanks for the present."

"Oh yeah. Glad you liked it."

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The next morning, Donna is her usual cheery self, so I'm left to assume that she had a good time last night. I verify this, anyway. "So, you enjoyed the movie last night?"

She grins. "Oh yeah. I love _White Christmas_. Tonight is _It's a Wonderful Life,_ another fantastic choice. You should see if you can come."

"Maybe. Did you manage to keep your hands off Josh?" I joke.

She grins at me triumphantly. "Oh, I was great. He, on the other hand, seemed to be having a harder time of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"I mean, he didn't try anything, but he certainly wasn't following the movie."

"His eyes were elsewhere?"

"You bet they were." She says smugly.

"So, a pretty good date, then?" I ask innocently.

"What?"

"You and Josh. Good date?"

She smiles slightly in confusion. "It wasn't a date, Alan."

"It wasn't?"

"No, of course not."

"Oh. My bad. I guess I misunderstood."

She sits down heavily, her eyes drifting out of focus. "It wasn't a date." She mutters again, mostly to herself. Her gaze snaps back to mine worriedly. "Was it?"

I shrug, concealing a grin. "I don't know. You just said it wasn't."

"But... Maybe he meant... Oh god. What if it was?"

"I don't know. Would it bother you if it was?"

"I... I don't know." She admits, faltering. "I mean, we broke up. There's a reason we broke up. He can't think... Can he?"

I attempt to follow her half formed question. "Maybe he's just sort of... Testing the waters."

She bites her lip. "Do you think he wants to get back together?"

"Would it be so bad if he did?"

She considers this. "Well..."

"I mean, the relationship wasn't all bad, right?"

She smiles, nostalgia softening her features. "No. No, it wasn't. Most of it was great."

"So then, what's the problem?"

She furrows her brow, focusing on her answer. She takes a while to speak, but when she does, it's deliberate. "You probably know this, but Josh isn't very good at taking no for an answer."

"Really? Never heard that before. Word on the Hill was that he was a total softie." I say sarcastically.

She gives me half a smile. "Well, it's not just in his job. He can be very persistent when he wants to, when he doesn't want to admit defeat. He was like that for a while after we broke up. It was really confusing, because I thought he'd wanted it. But then, he was back at it, telling me he loved me and that we should get back together."

"Maybe he realized what he really wanted." I defend.

"Maybe." She grants. "But after a while, I started to think that maybe it wasn't about me at all. It was about the fact that he'd put time and effort into a relationship, for the first time in a while, and it had failed. Breaking up was like admitting defeat to him, and that's the last thing he ever wants to do. So I figured, maybe it wasn't about me. It was just about winning."

"It _was_ about you." I say desperately, even though I'd have no way of knowing this, as far as she knew.

"So I pulled back. I became closed off, like I was when you met me. I was friendly to him, I guess, but nothing more than that. I didn't want to encourage him, and I didn't want to fall for him again. It was self defense, really." She says, as if trying to sell me on the validity of her actions. "He seemed to get it. He backed off."

"And then what?"

"And then, well, here we are. We're back in this again, back the way we used to be, almost. But the strange thing is, it doesn't seem to be about winning. These past few weeks, or months... They don't seem like him not being able to take no for an answer. It feels like it's about me."

"Yeah."

"And... Like he just wants to be around me again. Which is nice, because I missed him."

"So you're saying that the fact that he isn't trying to push the relationship... Is why you'd consider being in one again?"

She nods almost imperceptibly. "I don't know yet. We'll see how it goes."

"That sounds like a solid plan."

She nods again, stronger this time. "All I can say is, if he's trying to win me back, he's certainly going about it the right way."

I can't help a smile. "I'll pass that on."

"What?"

"Sorry. Joking." I cover quickly. "So you think you'll go over there again tonight?"

"Yeah, I think I will. Even if it is kind of like a date. Just to... Test the waters." She parrots my phrase from earlier. "Besides, I do love Christmas movies."

 _And you love Josh._ "Right. Who doesn't?"

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"Alan, I can't tell if we're dating." Donna announces with evident frustration, striding into the office and flinging her bag down.

"Really? Four dates in, and you're not sure?"

"No, I'm not!" She nearly shouts back. "I can't tell, Alan! I can't!"

"Okay, let's look at this rationally." I say in a soothing tone. "What's he done to make you think you're dating, and what's he done to make you think you're not?" This conversation would be so much easier if he'd only conferred with me.

"Well, he... He... Oh, this is so stupid!" She exclaims, collapsing into her chair. "I mean, he asks me to these movies, and maybe it's just because he knows I'd like them, but then maybe it's because... Because... Ugh."

"Go on." I prompt.

"And then, you know, we sit together. And we're all cute, and cozy, and we talk throughout the whole movie, which, of course, we've done since the beginning of time. But, usually, he at least complains a little about me ruining the movie. But he hasn't been doing that! And then, well, the way he looks at me."

"How does he look at you?"

"You know how!" She snaps. "Like he used to. Like he did when he was in love with me."

"Maybe he still is." I offer, as if it isn't obvious.

She waves a hand dismissively. "But he hasn't made a move, Alan. He hasn't kissed me, or, or anything like that." A slight blush tints her cheeks at her implication.

"Maybe he's trying to take it slow this time."

"Well, we didn't do that last time! Last time, I had to drag him out of bed the morning after so we could go on our first date." She says, flushed.

I can't help but smile at this image. "Well, he probably wants you to see that he's serious about this."

"Maybe." She agrees considerately. "He invited you and I to the congressional Christmas party, by the way."

"You _and_ me?"

"Yeah, he told me to tell you. I thought it was weird, too. Because at first I was like, 'Oh, it's a date' but then he went and said 'And can you invite Alan too'? God. I just don't _get_ it." She says dismally, looking away from me.

 _Why would he invite me?_ I find myself distracted. "Huh. Maybe I'll go."

"Yo-yo Ma is playing it again, so it'll be a good time. Usually aides aren't invited, you should feel lucky." She offers half a smile.

Our office assistant brushes into the office, a stack of last night's phone messages in her hands. "Donna, one for you about the coalition next week, one for the Congresswoman from Kimball, and Alan, one for you from Josh."

I raise my eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah. Something about a plan? I don't know." She hands it to me.

Donna is watching me curiously, so I lie, "Probably about the open Senate seat next year. Told him I might have someone."

She shrugs. "Okay."

Inwardly, though, I'm grinning ear to ear. _I'm back in._

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The night of the Congressional Christmas party is bright and clear, so beautiful in fact that Donna, the Congresswoman, and I decide to walk to the White House (flanked by Secret Service agents, of course). The past few days, Donna has seemed a bit down, as if her hopes for her favorite month hadn't quite been realized. Hopefully, that will change after tonight.

"You seem down, Donna. What's up?" Andy attempts as we stroll.

"Nothing." She says softly.

"The holidays get you down?"

"You could say that."

When we arrive, we clear security and have our coats taken to be checked, revealing a tuxedo (mine) and two gorgeous dresses (theirs). I must say, even though she wasn't sure tonight was a date, Donna looks absolutely stunning in her red dress. I look around the foyer, hoping to catch sight of Josh's reaction.

I spot him talking to Toby. When he turns to see us, he's arrested by the sight of her. His eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly ajar. I grin, hoping he's not too thrown off to execute tonight's plan.

Toby follows his gaze and rolls his eyes before saying something to him sharply, but a certain softness around his eyes and mouth reveals that he, too, is warmed. They exchange a few words before Josh wends his way over to his, dodging Congressmen that try to get his attention. By the time he arrives, he's managed to compose himself with a smile.

"Hey, guys." He greets.

Donna pretends not to have noticed his approach. "Oh, hey."

"Hi." I greet, hoping the giddy lilt in my voice doesn't give me away.

"Josh." Andy greets coolly before slipping past him to talk to a fellow member of the House.

"You made it."

"How could we resist? Yo-yo Ma is playing, and as I'm sure you know-"

"Yo-yo Ma rules. Right." He interrupts.

"Exactly." Her gaze turns serious. "I'm sorry you, uh, didn't get to enjoy it last time."

He seems surprised by whatever it is she's talking about, but dodges it. "Yeah, well. I've got my second chance tonight." He exchanges a significant look with me, and I nearly shiver in excitement.

"I guess you do." She replies, befuddled by his implication.

"Anyway, um..." His eyes regain that awestruck quality of earlier as he allows himself to look at her, really look at her, up close. He takes a steadying breath. "You look..."

Her smile lights her up even further, and she eclipses even the gorgeous twinkling tree a few yards away. "I know."

He shakes his head, returning to his senses. "You don't know what I was going to say."

"Amazing. Gorgeous. Transcendent."

"You're right. I was definitely going to say transcendent." He says sarcastically.

She beams. "You look pretty okay, too."

"Pretty okay? You look transcendent, and I look pretty okay? Yeah, alright." The lights in the foyer flicker a few times, alerting us that it's time to find our seats. "Alright, looks like it's time to head in. I'll catch up with you guys later, okay?"

We nod. He heads in, and we rejoin the Congresswoman to find our seats together.

The first few songs, I try to follow the magnificent performance, but I'm too excited. I wait eagerly for my cue. Donna doesn't have the same dilemma, and her sulky mood of earlier evaporates as she listens with rapture. Her head doesn't even turn when Josh gets out of his seat, and my eyes follow him out of the room.

I lean over her shoulder. "Donna."

"Mm?" She says, not looking at me.

"Donna, I need to talk to you about something." I whisper.

She furrows her brow at me curiously, and searches my eyes for some clue as to what I'm talking about. She must decide that it seems urgent enough to draw us away from her beloved cellist. She sighs and stands, as subtly as she can manage, and heads out of the room. I follow closely behind.

"What is it, Alan?" She asks once we reach the hall, folding her arms in obvious frustration.

"Well, it's not me, actually, it's-"

"Hey, Donnatella." God, the guy knows how to make an entrance. He materializes from behind a pillar, hands in his pockets.

She looks between us in confusion. "What's going on?"

I allow him to take it from here.

"Sorry I had to pull you out of the concert, I just didn't want to risk losing you after the show." He smiles.

She turns to look at me. "And you're...?"

I grin, stepping back toward the concert hall. "Have a good time, guys."

I leave them there, with Josh looking anticipant and nervous, and Donna looking something between confused and miffed. I almost skip with joy as I head back to my seat, but decide better of it at the last minute and head to Josh's empty seat beside Toby. I sit down, and he turns to look at me.

"Where's Josh?"

I smile. "No idea."

"And Donna?"

"No clue."

"This wasn't some wild scheme of yours, was it?"

"His, actually."

Toby makes a huffing noise. "Dear god."

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Josh leads Donna through the double doors into the bullpen, all while she protests. "Where are we going?"

"You worked here for three years, and you still don't know the way around?"

"Josh."

"Donna."

"Tell me what we're doing here." She demands as they stop near his office. She doesn't seem entirely angry, and if he's not mistaken, he detects a faint trace of excitement in her eyes.

"I need to talk to you about something." He says seriously, releasing the arm he'd been pulling her by.

She tilts her head at him. "Okay."

"Do you remember the night we broke up?"

Pain contracts her body. She folds her arms tightly. "No, I'd forgotten it entirely." She says icily.

"So, that's a yes."

"Yes, Josh, I remember. What the hell are you bringing that up for?"

"Do you remember what I said?"

She snorts. "I don't remember you saying much of anything. I remember you sitting there silently."

"I said something."

"You said you didn't want to be with me anymore." She grinds out, glaring at him.

"Aha!" He says triumphantly, ignoring her daggers. "See, I knew that's what you thought. But that's not what I said at all."

"Fine. It was something like that, okay?"

"I said, 'I can't do this anymore'." He tells her.

"Right." She says impatiently. "Same thing. What's your point?"

"That's very different from saying that I don't want to be with you."

"No, it's not. You said you couldn't do it anymore. Us. I know what you meant."

"You see, that's not what I meant." He persists. "In fact, 'I can't do this anymore' was very poor word choice."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. In fact, that may have been the worst way possible to start a proposal." He waits for his words to sink in, rocking anxiously on the balls of his feet.

Eventually, she realizes what he's said, and she is predictably stunned. Her mouth falls open, and a crease appears between her eyebrows. " _What_?"

"A proposal. From me. To you."

"A proposal of what?" She splutters.

He smiles despite his nerves. "Of marriage."

"A proposal of marriage?"

"A proposal of marriage." He affirms.

She teeters precariously, as if she might fall down, and backs against his doorframe for support. "You were going to ask me to marry you?"

"I think we've just established that, yes."

"Well... Why?"

"...Because I wanted to marry you?"

She glares at him, as if he isn't taking this seriously enough. "But, but... We broke up! That night! You broke up with me!"

"No, I didn't. I said, 'I can't do this anymore,' and then you broke up wth me."

"I did not."

"You did."

"I thought you were breaking up with me! All I did was agree!"

"But I wasn't breaking up with you."

"Then why didn't you stop me?" She cries incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The same reason you agreed with me."

She ignores him. "And what kind of idiot starts a proposal with 'I can't do this anymore'? Can't do what? Not be married to me anymore? God, you're so frustrating! You're such an asshole." She flings out haphazardly.

He doesn't take offense. He smiles wryly. "You've really missed calling me that, haven't you?"

A slight smile softens her features. "Every day."

He allows her a pause. "So." He says softly.

She takes a deep breath. "So."

"I didn't tell you because, how could I? You're over there railing about why we've gotta end it, and how neither of us are happy-" she grimaces in guilt. "-and I'm supposed to interject, like, 'Hold on. Actually, even though you've just told me you don't want to be with me, I think we should get married'."

She looks down, acknowledging the validity of this. "I still wish you would've told me."

"I should've." He says immediately. "I should've told you everything. I should've told you that when I said 'I can't do this anymore,' I meant, I couldn't let us fall apart anymore. I couldn't keep pretending that you weren't important to me. Because you were... Are. You are. And I should've told you that."

"You weren't the only one who let it happen, you know." She says softly.

"Still. I was a fucking coward. I was."

"Josh. Stop." She steps closer to him, placing her hand on his arm. She has always had the unique ability to calm him with a simple gesture, like this. He settles down, gazing at her seriously.

"I should've told you how much I love you."

She notices his use of the present tense. She swallows burgeoning tears, and smiles. "I should've told you that, too."

"I should've told you that you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"You did. Several times." She reminds him, hand falling down his arm to grab his hand. "I just didn't listen."

"But towards the end..."

"There were a lot of things we both should've done. It's not worth it to dissect all of it." She shakes her head. "I'm not sure there's anything you could've done, anyway."

"I could've-"

"Because I had started to resent you." She informs him. The reaction she receives sends a pang through her chest. He reels back in shock, pain visible in his wide eyes.

"You..."

"It wasn't your fault." She says hurriedly. "I'd just... I'd been yours for a little too long."

"What?"

"I mean, I went from being your assistant, straight to being with you. There was no in between. Everything I was, everything I did, was associated with you. I felt like I had to work twice as hard to make people notice my work, to notice me as an individual, because they only knew me as that girl with Josh Lyman." She says, begging him to understand. Even now, her voice takes on an edge, just thinking about the inadequacy she'd felt.

"No they didn't." He denies, though his voice lacks conviction.

"I hated that. But I was conflicted, because... I loved you. And I hated how much I loved you, because it meant I'd always be with you. I'd always be that girl with Josh Lyman."

"So you worked more." He says, the pieces falling into place. "You worked longer hours, and..."

"And eventually, I started to avoid you." She finishes for him, gripping his hand tightly. "I'm sorry."

He gazes down at the floor between them. "And, um... How'd that work out for you?"

"Terribly." She says immediately. "I still loved you. That made it worse when you started avoiding me, too. Which was all my fault."

"And what about now? Now that you've been an independent person for a year, I mean."

She knows what he's asking. "It's been good, I think." She says slowly. He looks completely defeated. She hurries to say, "Because I missed you. Because I missed you, and now I know, that... I love you. This year confirmed that for me. It was good to be independent, and I still plan to be, but..." She shrugs helplessly. "I love you."

"You do?"

"I had to know that I didn't need you. And now that I do... Now that I know I don't need you, well... I still want you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

His face slowly breaks into a grin. "Okay. Well. That's fine for you and all, but _I_ need you."

"You do?"

"Can't live without you."

"I always figured as much." She smiles at him, and he reciprocates, practically glowing. A bit of sadness tinges her gaze. She sighs. "You were going to _propose_."

"Yeah." He affirms for the seventh time.

"And then I broke up with you! That must've been the worst night ever." She says sympathetically. She slips her hand out of his and raises it, and her other, to the sides of his face. "I can't believe I did that."

"It did suck." He agrees. "But, um... If I had... Proposed."

"Yeah?"

He shifts nervously. "What would you have... Said?"

She smiles sadly. "You know what I would've said."

"No." He infers bitterly.

"What? No! I would've said yes." She says emphatically, and his gaze brightens again. "But... It wouldn't have been right."

"Yeah. I know. Was kind of stupid, to try and use that to save us."

"All of this would've come up eventually, even if I'd said yes." She tells him.

"But now?"

"Now, it's all out in the open." She says happily, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders.

"And we can move past it."

"I think so."

"I'll never let this happen again." He wraps his arms around her waist, enjoying the familiarity.

"It'll require some communication."

"Small price to pay."

"I agree."

"I'm never letting you go again." He says, physically accenting this point by tightening his grip on her.

She grins. "I hope not."

He looks up above them, to the mistletoe hanging from his doorframe. He'd found it particularly insufferable all week - from CJ leaving lipstick marks on his cheek to Will teasing him with a pickup line. But now, he is thinking that its placement is quite serendipitous. "So, umm... You wanna pretend this is mistletoe?"

She narrows her eyes at him. "This _is_ mistletoe."

"I know, I was just-"

"I know what you were doing." She cuts him off with a smile. "And, yes."

With the excitement that only a year apart can build, they lean in under his doorframe. Much like their first kiss in the same spot, it starts out tentative and slow, but they quickly progress to the intimacy they'd once shared. It is easy to find their natural rhythm, and a thrill of happiness runs through them both.

When she pulls back for air, she grins. "Dear god, I've missed you."

"Back at ya." He manages, short of breath. She leans in again, but he stills her with a hand on her shoulder. He shakes his head. "Wait, wait. There's one more thing, I almost forgot."

She gives him an incredulous look. "Can it wait?"

He smiles. "No, it can't."

In a series of events, too quick for her to process, he pulls a small black velvet box out of the pocket of his tux and kneels before her. He opens the box, grinning up at her. "Will you marry me?"

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By the time they reappear, the performance is almost over. I see them standing behind a pillar, his hand resting on her waist. They're both glowing. My face splits uncontrollably into a massive grin. Toby notices, and turns to follow my line of sight.

"Well would you look at that."

"They're so beautiful." I say, near tears.

"Is she... Is she wearing an engagement ring?" He asks incredulously.

"It would appear so."

"They're engaged?"

"Unless there's another man I'm not aware of."

"You told him to propose to her?"

"Oh no, that was all him. He's very 'go big or go home' that way."

Toby looks away, perhaps remembering his own proposal to an ex. "Stupid." He mumbles.

"But she said yes."

"That's what makes her stupid. Up until now, I'd thought her to be quite intelligent." Nevertheless, he's smiling.

They sway in the background together for the remaining few minutes, drawing the eyes of a few others. When the performance ends, Toby and I make a beeline for them. Or rather, I do, and Toby follows in resignation.

"So." I say excitedly upon reaching them.

They just grin by way of a response, and I envelop both of them in a hug. "I'm so happy for you guys!"

"Thanks, Alan."

When we break apart, Toby approaches.

"Congratulations." He says gruffle, first shaking Josh's hand and then hugging Donna. His eyes betray his joy. "Hope you know what you're getting into, Donna."

"No clue." She says happily.

"What are you two still doing here?" I interrupt. "Why didn't you get out of here, and do all the things that two people who are in love, and have just been reunited, do?"

Donna rolls her eyes at my implication. "We wanted to find Leo, and the Congresswoman."

"Tell them we wouldn't be in tomorrow." Josh adds, barely containing his elation.

She wraps an arm around his waist. "Won't be in until after New Year's, if I've got anything to say about it."

"Bye, guys." He says cheerfully, and together they make their way across the foyer, in search of their bosses. The eyes of the entire building follow them, and a few moments later, I see them being accosted by CJ.

I watch them proudly. They grow up so fast. "So, Toby."

"So, Alan."

"So, you and Andy. What's going on there?"

"No." He says firmly.

"No, what?" I ask innocently.

"Josh may have bought into your Dr. Phil bullshit, but I want no part of it."

"But Toby-"

"No."

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 _February, 2002_

"An empty egg carton, a God-knows-how-old takeout box, a single beer bottle, and... Yes. Just as I thought. Expired milk." Donna says frustratedly.

Josh grins, too distracted by the sight of her bent over and peering into his fridge to care about food. "Who cares about breakfast?"

"I do, Josh." She tells him seriously, straightening up and closing the fridge door.

He has never seen anything as wonderful as the sight of Donnatella Moss, hair falling out of a bun, pouting in his kitchen with his shirt hanging off her shoulders. "I gathered." He says, his hands snaking around her waist.

"We'll have to go out."

"Go out where?"

"To get food."

"Oh no. That's a bad idea."

"Why?"

"Let's stay in. All day." He kisses her neck. "And the next day."

"You really should call Leo, you know." She tells him, fighting back a smile. "And tell him we won't be in today."

"We won't be in any day this week. This month. You know what, let's just stay here forever."

"I don't think he'll take too well to that."

"Who cares?"

"You'll be fired."

"Who cares?" He repeats lazily, working his way up to her ear.

"Then you won't have any money to pay rent, and we'll be evicted. Then we wouldn't be able to stay here forever."

"We'll board up the doors, and the windows."

"How will we get food?"

"Sam will bring it to us."

"You're being highly illogical."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me." He murmurs, capturing her lips with his.

She giggles, a sound he hadn't heard much of until the previous night. He has discovered that he loves that sound. "No. We can't."

"Why not?" He whines.

"Because. You're going to call Leo, and then we're going out for breakfast."

"Donna."

"I'm hungry. I could faint."

"I make you weak in the knees, is that it?"

"Yes. That's it." She says sarcastically.

"I figured."

"Besides, don't you want to go out on our first date?" She gives him a charming grin.

He considers this. "It could wait."

She hits the side of his head. "Call Leo."

"Ugh. Fine." He grabs his phone from the counter and dials. "But you're staying here with me. For moral support."

"You just can't bare to be away from me." She teases.

He scoffs, but doesn't say anything because Margaret has picked up. "Leo McGarry's office."

"Hey, Margaret, it's Josh. Is he busy?"

"No, I'll put you through."

"Thanks."

There's a pause on the other end. "Say, where are you this morning, Josh?"

"Put Leo on, Margaret."

"And by chance, is Donna with you? Because she hasn't come in either."

"Margaret."

"Fine, fine." She sighs, patching him through.

"Josh. Where the hell have you been?"

"I'm at home." From behind him, he feels Donna's arms wrap around his waist, and her lips on his shoulder. He tries to keep his reaction out of his voice. "And, um, I can't come in today."

"Why not?" Leo growls.

"I'm... Umm... Sick." Donna bites him. "Ow! I mean, well. Not really sick."

"Why is your voice so high pitched?"

"What? It's not." He presses on, ignoring Donna's laughter behind him. "And, um, Donna won't be in either."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason I won't be in."

"...Which is?"

"Well..."

A new voice cuts in. "Oh for god's sake, Leo, they slept together."

"CJ?" Josh asks incredulously. "Am I on speaker phone?"

"It's just me, idiot boy. Now tell me I'm right, the suspense is killing me."

"Um, well. Yes. You're right."

"She is?"

"Aha! I knew it!"

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not. We've had a contingency plan for this since day one of the administration, mi amor." CJ says breezily.

"That's reassuring, I guess."

"Give us the day, and all will be well by the time you're back tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. Right." He says distractedly. Donna is biting him again, and when he whips around to look at her, she grins evilly. He covers the phone with one hand. "Oh, bad idea."

"For god's sake, kid." Leo mutters. "You couldn't have waited until second term? The President and I had a bet."

"Sorry." He manages while pinning Donna against his fridge. She giggles madly again.

"Is that... Is that Donna?" CJ asks incredulously, having heard her.

"Um."

"What are you _doing_?"

"Um."

"That's disgusting!" CJ says, loud enough for Donna to hear, which causes her to laugh even more.

Leo sighs, disappointed with the state of his staff. "She's a nice girl, Josh. At least take her somewhere nice, would you?"

"Will do." He says before snapping his phone shut. He glares at his (former) assistant. "I can't believe you."

"That was fun." She says brusquely, her laughter subsiding. She kisses the corner of his mouth. "Now let's get ready to go out for breakfast."

"You were serious about that?"

"As a heart attack."

He doesn't move, and just holds her there. Another smile escapes, as had been happening all morning. "You know." He begins thoughtfully. "I never understood the whole women wearing men's clothing thing."

"What?"

"I mean, some guys find it really attractive when women wear their clothing. Me? Not so much."

"You're telling me you want your shirt back?"

He shakes his head. "No. I'm saying, most of the time, it's just annoying. Like, bring your own clothes, you know? Or just put on the ones you had. Why mine? And then they _never_ get returned-"

She interrupts with an edge to her voice. "You really get annoyed when a woman, who you've brought back to _your_ apartment, to _sleep_ with you, wants to change into something more comfortable?"

He shrugs. "Normally. But this? Right now?" He tugs at the hem of the shirt she's wearing. "I'm starting to get it."

"Oh, are you now?"

He grins impishly. "Oh yeah."

"Well, that's too bad, because I'm about to take it off." His eyes light up in excitement. "To change, Josh." She clarifies.

"Into what?"

"Clothes! To go out to breakfast!"

"Donna."

"There's a nice little crèpe shop down the street from you, did you know that?"

"No."

"Well then wouldn't you like to go see it?"

"No."

She shakes her head, smiling, and brushes past him. She heads into his bedroom and starts pulling open his drawers.

"What are you looking for?"

"Clothes." She repeats. She pulls out a pair of jeans and throws it at him. "Put those on."

"Hey now. You're at perfect liberty to get dressed, but you can't force me to."

"And this." She tosses him a sweater. She gives him her best girlish smile. "I like that one."

"You do?"

"Mmhmm."

He rarely pays much attention to the way he looks - his appearance has yet to fail him - but he finds himself swayed by her smile. She'd always displayed a love for dressing him, which he pretended to hate, but if it would get her to keep looking at him like that, he'd wear pretty much anything. "Fine. Maybe I'll get dressed."

She grabs her slacks from last night from the floor, and gathers them in her arms with a sweatshirt she'd grabbed from his dresser. "Good. I'm going to go get changed."

She turns toward the bathroom, and he narrows his eyes. "Where are you going?"

"The bathroom. To get dressed."

"Get dressed here."

"Joshua. If you see me in any state of undress, we're never going to get out the door."

"Hey." He protests. "I think I handled myself pretty well when we first got up. And you weren't wearing anything then."

"You didn't handle yourself well. We had sex."

"I'd say that went pretty well, then." He grins. "Besides, that was as much you as it was me."

"I'm going to go get dressed now."

Ten minutes later, they've managed to get themselves out the door. Donna leans against it, waiting for him to lock it. Unfortunately, dealings with keys weren't his strongest suit. She doesn't mind. It gives her a longer time to look at him. Warmth spreads through her as he flashes her a smile, muttering something about the shoddy craftsmanship that had gone into creating his front door lock.

"Hey, Josh?" She says as he pockets his keys, preparing to go. She grabs his arm and keeps him there.

"Yeah?"

"I know this is too soon to say, but..."

"But what?"

Her gaze dips to the pavement. "I know this is too soon to say, but, I love you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He raises her chin with his hand until her eyes meet his. He's grinning widely. "I love you too."

And this is true of both of them for as long as they live.

After establishing this, and sealing it with a kiss (or several) they walk hand in hand to their first date.

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 **Yay, happy ending! Finally! How did you guys like it?**

 **Thanks for sticking with me this long!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I bet you guys thought I'd never get around to this. Frankly, neither did I. But here we both are, proven wrong!**

 **For some reason, I decided to read through this story last weekend, and I found myself actually aching. I hated them being apart, even though I knew they would end up back together. So, I decided I needed to give them a sweet epilogue, even if I'd already given them a happy ending. 'Cause they deserve it (and so do you guys)! :)**

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"Alright. I'm done."

Josh looks up as a large paperback lands in his lap. He stares down at the familiar cover, a picture of the Capitol building at night with two people silhouetted against it. "Finally! Took you long enough."

"Mm, well. I was being thorough."

"Why didn't we just get two copies?"

"Alan sent this to us specially, Josh. It'd be weird if we bought another."

"Whatever. I feel like I'm the last one to read this."

"It's been out for two weeks, Josh."

"Still! Long enough for word to get around. I've been accosted by so many women in the past two weeks, you wouldn't believe."

"Aren't you glad your fan club is growing?"

"No. They all seem to think I'm some sort of romantic. It's humiliating."

"You are a romantic."

"No, I'm not!"

"The book proves otherwise."

"I'm romantic for, ya know, you. That's it."

"That's the most romantic part."

"And then all these women who've read it go and share the details with everyone else they know, and suddenly I've got a room full of old white congressmen smiling at me and making jokes."

"I wouldn't be so sure that those men didn't read the book themselves."

"I can't believe Sam leaked that it's about us."

"Josh. It's obvious to anyone who reads it that it's about us. Even if Sam hadn't said anything, it would've gotten out in less than six hours."

"You never should've set him up with Alan."

"I think they're cute."

"Cute, sure. And devious."

"Well, yes. That too."

"Anyway. How is it?"

"It's pretty good."

"Oh yeah?"

"Some great lines in there. You'll see that I've highlighted some important passages in your hymnal."

"That's what took you so long." He flips through the book and stops on a heavily highlighted page. "Hey, these highlighted sections... They're all about me!"

"Yeah."

"They're all gross lines about how pathetically in love with you I am."

"You've gotta learn to separate yourself from the character, Josh. It's 'loosely based on real persons and events,' after all."

"These are... Oh god."

"I know." She smiles deviously. She leans over his shoulder to swipe the book. "Listen to this one." She flips through it to a bookmarked page. "' _Drew, contrary to popular opinion, was no bulldog. Or, if he was, he was one on a leash, chained to a fencepost - the immovable fencepost that was Jane. As much as he detested it, the truth was that he was bound to her, forever, and even if the leash were to snap, he would remain diligently by her side'._ "

"Drew sounds pathetic."

"You're Drew. And you're whipped."

"Loosely based on real persons and events, Donna!"

"You looooooove me."

"Give me that back."

She laughs and tosses it back to him. "Enjoy."

"I'm getting my own highlighter."

"Go for it, babe."

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"Ha! Listen to this!"

Donna looks up absently from her laptop. "Yes?"

"' _Jane could've been repurposed as a Victoria's Secret model, had she been a couple inches taller and significantly less dorky'_."

"Yes, I read that. Quite flattering."

"' _Her looks, obscured in her youth by a marching band uniform and poor posture - likely due to the massive AP textbooks she was consistently toting - had begun to show through by the time she moved to the District, despite the best efforts of her minimal makeup and conservative cardigans'._ " Josh grins, finding the description particularly fitting and somewhat heartwarming.

Donna furrows her brow. "He made fun of my cardigans?"

"Didn't you read this?"

"I might have skimmed over that part."

"You just blanked out everything after Victoria's Secret model, didn't you?"

She pouts. "Maybe."

"Alan thinks you're a dork."

"Loosely based, Josh."

"Donna. You are a dork."

"Hmph. An attractive dork."

"Of that I'm aware."

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"What are you highlighting?"

"A particularly interesting passage."

"What passage?"

He clears his throat and begins to read. "' _Jane had been forced to contemplate life without him'_ \- Very convenient, by the way, how the Senator Drew works for also happened to have been involved in a shooting - ' _And the thought had shaken her deeply. But she soon realized that the only thing worse than losing the opportunity to be with him was having the opportunity and not taking it. So every day, without fail, she dragged herself in the door of the coffee shop where she'd run into him. Though it wasn't all she'd once had, she knew that a day that Drew was alive and walking around, and she didn't see him, was a day entirely wasted'._ " He finishes this by looking up at her smugly.

"What's your point?"

"It wasn't a coincidence. When we ran into each other. You wanted to see me."

"Alan took some liberties, Josh."

"Did he take that liberty?"

She concedes with a slight smile, "No. He didn't."

"Aw. You love me."

"Whatever. That's not even that bad. Just listen to this." She takes the book from him before he can react, and flips to a page whose corner is well-worn. " _'At least once a week, Drew found himself trying to drown his sorrows. He never succeeded, and his sorrows remained gasping for air until they'd dragged him onto the roof of his apartment building. There, he hoped vainly that the potent mixture of alcohol, nostalgia, and the darkened sky would allow him a brief moment to see not the stars in the sky, but the ones in her eyes again'_." She smiles smugly.

"Well I... Well that's just..."

"I win."

"I'm not done yet. I'm sure I'll find something better on you."

"I'm sure."

"Drew is so pathetic."

"I don't know. I'm kind of fond of him." She closes the book with a warm smile, and hands it to him with an accompanying kiss on the cheek.

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"I'm uncomfortable with how often he uses the word 'smolder.' I don't even really know what that means."

"You get to smolder a few times in there, my friend."

"Oh, I'm aware."

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"Donna!"

"What?"

"Oh my god."

"What?" She repeats. She notices that in addition to looking appalled, he's also blushing profusely.

"There's a sex scene in here."

She grins. "There's a few, actually."

"How can he... How did he... Oh my god."

"He was above board about the whole thing, Josh. We signed on, and we told him what he couldn't write about, which he completely respected. And I guess we never said he couldn't write sex scenes of us."

"Why did we pass on the opportunity to approve the advance copy?"

"I wanted us to be surprised."

"This is a bad surprise."

"Eh. You win some, you lose some."

"This is... This actually happened."

"What?"

"The one in the White House."

"We never had sex in the White House."

"Uh, yeah, we did. And he wrote it in."

"That's not a sex scene." She says dismissively.

"Yes it is."

"No, it's not, because we didn't have sex in the White House." She counters, somewhat forcefully.

"Then what would you call this?"

"We only went to third base!"

"Now you're just being technical."

"Well when a technicality is what's standing in the way of me having desecrated a symbol of American democracy-"

"I've always been kinda proud of the fact that I had sex in the White House."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It's like I'm part of some elite club. Me, JFK."

"You're gross."

He squints at the book. "No, this is gross."

"You think?"

"It's like pornography."

"No, it _is_ pornography."

"About us."

"Yupp."

"Dear god."

"You're not a fan?"

"How many times can a man type the words 'moan' and 'pant' before he starts reevaluating his life choices?"

"Apparently quite a few."

"Apparently."

"I thought it was kinda hot."

"You're kidding."

"What?"

"You actually read this?"

"Well, you know. What I could read through the cracks in my fingers as I covered my eyes in mortification, and in between my breaks to bathe in holy water."

"Right."

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"Donna, I find these characters really annoying."

"Don't you have work to be doing?"

"I mean, why don't they just get back together? It's so obvious they want to."

"Yeah, I found that irritating too. Why was Jane being so stubborn? I hated her when she left his office after that kiss."

"When Drew just sat there like an idiot during the breakup, I wanted to slam his head against a wall."

"Don't tell me you're invested in this romance novel, Josh."

"I want to skip to the end."

"You already know how it ends."

"Yeah. But I want to be sure."

"It is pretty miserable there for a while."

"This is bringing back some bad memories."

"It has a happy ending. I promise. But the rest of it is worth reading."

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"Did you read the dedication?"

He looks up from the book, which he is about three-fourths of the way through. "Hm? No, I haven't. But it's just dedicated to us, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. But there's a little something special about it. You should read it, when you get the chance." She tries to hide her giddy smile.

"I will."

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Early one morning, Donna notices the book resting on their counter. Curious, she picks it up to see what he's been highlighting. She finds what she'd expected, all of the passages that paint her as hopelessly, ridiculously in love with him, and the ones that portray him as desirable. But then, one surprises her.

She'd highlighted in yellow, and he in blue. But she finds two sentences that they'd both gone over, turning it green.

 _The day he met her, he finally saw the world in color. He hadn't known he was living a black and white movie until she'd swept into his life like the tornado into Dorothy's, and life truly began._

He walks into the kitchen, dressed for work, and finds her staring at the page. "Hey, what are you looking at?"

"You highlighted this part. Even though it makes you seem all pathetically in love with me."

He comes to look over her shoulder at the part in question. He nods. "Oh, yeah."

"Why?"

"Because." He hesitates. "He found the words. I've never been so good at that, but... Alan found the words."

"For what?"

"For... You know."

She blinks. "I swept into your life like a tornado?"

"That's when the movie changes to color."

"I know."

"Yeah, well. You're when my life changed to color."

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"So I finished the book."

"Oh yeah? What'd you think of it?"

"This last sentence is..."

"Oh, isn't it beautiful?"

"I was going to say cheesy."

She gives him her best affronted look, and snatches the book from him. She flips to the end and reads, "' _Their love story faded into the same mundane beauty of the stars above DC'_."

"That doesn't make you gag?"

"I love it. I think we should get it in needlepoint or something."

"No. No way."

"Josh. We're married. And if you don't have a cute romantic saying in needlepoint, are you even really married?"

"Yes. Definitely, yes."

"Whatever." She relents with a smile. "Did you read the dedication?"

"Oh. No, I forgot."

She hands the book back to him, and waits impatiently for him to find it. For a minute, he is still.

"This is... You're..."

She now allows herself to grin fully. "Yes."

He looks up at her, eyes wide. After a moment, his gaze becomes accusatory. "You let me read this whole book, and this was in there the whole time?"

"You're the one that didn't notice."

"You knew I wouldn't read the dedication!"

"You _are_ very impatient."

"I can't believe you." His voice catches. "I... I couldn't care less about this book anymore."

"Really? You're no longer bothered by the ending?"

"No."

"Or the rumors circulating on Capitol Hill?"

"No." He repeats softly, his eyes glowing. "I don't give a damn."

"You're smiling." She says cautiously.

He flings the book haphazardly onto the couch and pulls her into his arms. "That would be because I'm thrilled."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"I... I can't... This is..." He struggles to find the words. He half wishes Alan is there to compose something eloquent and beautiful.

"I know." She whispers. "I told you there'd be a happy ending."

The book is dedicated, _To the real J and D, who are now happily married._

Underneath that she'd added, in her own 'distinctive penmanship': _with children._

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 **D'awwwww. That gave me the warm and fuzzies. I hope you guys liked it as much as I did. Thanks for reading, and thank you to all of you who have followed this story so loyally.**


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